


Champagne and Chicanery

by the_madame21



Series: Shattered Glass [3]
Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_madame21/pseuds/the_madame21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At 19 years old, Karlheinz was the King-To-Be. Poised, educated and hopelessly optimistic, his naivety proves it all a foolish thing to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Poppy

“Sakamaki! Oy! Karlheinz!” 

“Huh?” The young man shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. 

Sampson laughed in his drunken way, the other men in the room joining him. 

“Don’t tell me it’s finally happened—” One of them began.

“He looks like a love-struck maiden!” Added another. 

Sampson slapped Karlheinz _hard_ on the back. “Tell me, boy. How was it?” 

The young prince reddened, blush rising all the way to his ears, as he strongly shook his head. “I would never! I have some pride to my name after all!”

One of the men cackled, “Always with that chivalrous pride! You’ll die a virgin that way, Karl—”

Richter chuckled, coyly taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t tell me you’re actually in _love,_ brother.” 

“Not if Scarlett has anything to say about it.” Sampson chuckled, swirling his glass, “Damn crazy bitch.” 

“This has nothing to do with Scarlett,” Karlheinz insisted, “Though you shouldn’t speak of her in such a way. She’s the Humbert heir—”

“Fuck the Humberts,” Samspon began, but was interrupted by an eager Richter, who put his hand over Sampson’s shoulder, “I wouldn’t mind the second daughter,” he said, “What was her name?”

“Henrietta.” One of the men provided, “She’s penniless. Everything will go to Scarlett—”

“Such a shame, that,” Samspon began, “She’s the prettier of the two—”

“But they’re both batshit crazy.” Richter gloated, the other men breaking into rolls of laughter. 

Karlheinz shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He tugged at his ponytail, brushing his fingers through blonde-white hair. Sampson seemed to notice this, because Sampson noticed _everything._ “Lighten up, Sakamaki! That’s no way for a future king to act. If you’re in love then snap out of it, because you’ll only end up dead.” 

“Women are only good for two things,” another added, “Cooking and coitus.” 

“And they sure are nice to look at when doing both.” Sampson nodded, chuckling with the others. 

Richter looked over at Karlheinz, grinning at how out of place the future king looked. “You seem to disagree, brother.” Richter said with a sly smile. "Whoever she is, she’s using you.” 

“It’s not like that.” Karlheinz said firmly, gripping his glass. “ _She’s_ not like that.” 

Sampson’s eyes widened, his cheeks pink from liquor. “Oh ho! What’s this? So it _is_ a woman!” 

Richter’s smile widened all the more, as he crossed his legs. “Now things are getting interesting!” 

Karlheinz stood up brashly, wobbling slightly from the alcohol. “As if I’d tell any of you!” He spat, trudging out of the room, leaving the gentry and his brother behind. 

None of them understood. Lisa was different. She didn’t know anything about him. She was clean, and pure, and honest. And she knew nothing of his status. Didn’t care for it. 

_Sir, would you care for a flower?_

Love stirred in his heart at the thought of her voice. What a simple meeting. One day, he was sure, he would tell his children the story of the day their mother had sold him a flower. How a delicate poppy had been the source of their passion. 

With a sudden fire in his cold blood he rushed to his chambers, reaching under his pillows and drawing out the book in which he’d chosen to preserve his precious flower. 

How long before he’d see her again? A journey to the human world was not so difficult a trip, but finding an excuse provided a challenge. Especially when his father was involved. 

But oh, he’d come up with a million excuses if only to see her again, to speak to her, to gaze upon those kind eyes that held more emotion than any word could ever hope to express. 

_Would you care for a flower?_

He could not bring himself to speak, so in awe was he of her beauty. And so he’d simply nodded his head, placing the coin into her palm, into her _palm,_ the soft, delicate flesh of this tender human. And oh my, how she had blushed, just as he had, no doubt, when they’re fingers lingered, as though their souls refused to part. 

She’d smiled, such a demure smile, his sweet princess, this flower of his heart, bowing her head respectfully, _curtseying_ , even, before she continued on her way, bushel of flowers in her hands, carrying so many at once that one might wonder if she were carrying flowers or if indeed it were the flowers carrying her, cradling this angel between their radiant petals. 

His legs would not move, though he so desperately wanted to chase after her, to take her in his arms, flowers and all, ask for her hand at that very second. But in this muddle of thoughts, this blindness of his love, there was a spark of clarity, a realization, pressed by his urgency. 

_Miss, your name! Please!_

Oh, her rosy cheeks. Kissed both by the sun and now by his sudden words. He’d apologized, gentleman that he was, said he didn’t mean to startle her so. 

She’d bowed her head to him once again, this little dove, obliging his request.

What a delicate sound, such was the voice of his beloved. So quiet and hushed that the wind had to carry her words to him in careful whispers. 

How could it be, Karlheinz wondered, falling onto his bed, clutching his book to his chest, that such a simple meeting could cause him to become so enraptured? 

It was not her beauty alone. No, never could it be something so vain. It was her soul, her very essence, her…

He sat up, panic gripping at his throat, the book tumbling to the ground. Could it be, that this love was not fueled by passion, but by thirst? 

No. No, that couldn’t be it. He hadn’t even noticed the scent of her blood. Not when he was so entranced with the green in her eyes. Those shining emeralds that proved as priceless as the jewels on his crown. With trembling hands he rushed to pick up the book, the flower having lost one of it’s petals in the commotion. He carefully tucked it back into it’s place, deciding he would see her again soon. 

But how was he to court her properly, with so much keeping him in the Demon World? 

Well, none of that mattered. What mattered was Lisa. He’d introduce himself properly, he’d court her the only way he knew how, and then…and then…

Would she cower in fear, his precious maiden, when he told her of his fangs? Or would she, delicate flower of his soul, offer up her neck, so that he could taste the inevitably sweet blood that gave her life?

Shudders raked his body, his own heart palpitating in jagged patterns. 

The door opened, Sampson letting out a low sigh upon noticing the way Karlheinz looked, heavily setting down a glass of brandy on the night stand. “You’re too naive, Karlheinz,” he said, his heavy frame making the mattress sink under his weight, “How long have we known each other?”

Karlheinz smirked, “Some might say too long.” 

“Who is she?”

“She’s no one,” the prince waved his hand, “Not that you’d know.” 

The older man chuckled, “Don’t underestimate me, Sakamaki. It won’t end well for you.” He took some of the drink that had been meant for Karlheinz, “In all honesty I’m happy for you. But if she were one of us you wouldn’t have hesitated. So tell me, is she poor?”

Karlheinz stole a glance at his book, “It’s hard to say.” 

“Her family name then.”

“I…don’t know.” 

Sampson’s eyes widened before he broke into laughter again. “Karlheinz you— don’t tell me you of all people bedded a woman without knowing her name?” 

“I haven’t!” He stood up most viciously, “I wouldn’t disrespect her in such a way! And you shouldn’t disrespect me by assuming so!”

“Calm down,” Sampson spat, “You’ve always had that temper on you. I won’t ask again. Who is she?” 

Karlheinz hesitated, clenching his fists. “She’s not…of the vampire clan…” 

Sampson nodded, “I assumed as much. Demon doesn’t seem like your type. Vibora, then?”

“Human.” He replied stiffly. 

Sampson blinked, looking at the prince with dull eyes, before finishing off the brandy. “You’ll be a laughingstock.” He said seriously. 

“I don’t care—”

“You caring or not has nothing to do with it. You’ll never become a respected king that way. You’d be murdered before the crown is ever placed on that optimistic little head of yours. That, or Richter will sweep your title out from under you.”

“Richter can have my title if he so desperately wishes it—”

The back of Sampson’s hand met with Karlheinz’s cheek in a sharp _smack._ “Stop acting like a _child._ Are you a boy or a man? You clearly know nothing of this woman. Humans function on their own selfish instinct and nothing more. And then they have the gall to claim themselves rational. Furthermore I refuse to serve the likes of Richter.”

“How dare you—”

Sampson held his hand up, dropping to his knee and bowing his head in respect, “Forgive me for striking you, my lord. But it was of utmost necessity—”

“Like hell it was,” Karlheinz growled, rubbing his face, “Are you going to help me or not?”

“My lord—”

“Very well,” Karlheinz said, “I’m sure Conner would be more than happy to—”

Sampson chuckled, taking his seat on the bed once more. He slapped the prince on the back, “Sometimes I forget how young you still are. Fine. Every young man should have his fun. When it ends badly, I won’t be the one to blame. Got that, Young Prince?” 

Karlheinz couldn’t control the giddiness that had bubbled up at the base of his throat. Part of him wanted to embrace his friend right then and there, but he settled for a simple handshake, giving him a solid “Thank you.” 

“I’ll tell you, Sakamaki. If we weren’t friends, I’d hate you.” 

Now it was Karlheinz’s turn to laugh, shaking his head, “I’m afraid I must agree with you Charles.” 

“Karl,” Sampson said, “At the very least, do you have her first name?”

“Lisa.” He said most earnestly. 

“Lisa,” Charles repeated, “Pleasant on the tongue. How did you meet her?”

“She was selling flowers.”

“And?”

“That is all.” 

Again Sampson did nothing but blink, and before he had a chance to insult him further, Karlheinz spoke up, “She has the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. And her beauty outranks even the finest of vampire mistresses. I know how foolish something like this is— I’m not as naive as you say— but Sampson, I swear by it—”

“I don’t need to be convinced,” Charles said with a wave of his hand, “All I ask is to not have to pick up the pieces, when it's all over.” 

“There won’t be any pieces to recover.” 

The older man grinned. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” 

Karlheinz clenched his jaw. 

“In any case, how do you plan to see her again?” 

“I’m not sure. But I’ll do anything to make it possible.” 

“See to it that Scarlett doesn’t find out.” 

Karlheinz chuckled nervously, “That woman sets me on edge.” 

“Can’t blame you,” Samspon chuckled, “All of your potential brides scare the shit out of me.” 

“How do you mean?” 

Sampson stood up, sighing as he picked up his glass, realizing there was no liquor left. “Women are a class all their own. Terrifying creatures truly, especially when angered. Or when given purpose.”

“Shouldn’t everyone have a purpose?” Karlheinz said, though Sampson was already walking away. 

Charles paused, taking a moment to glance back, smirking softly at his friend. “You’ve still a long way to go, Young Prince.” He said, then excused himself; closing the door behind him with uncharacteristic softness. 

_A long way to go,_ Karlheinz thought bitterly. He’d prove him wrong. He’d prove them all wrong. 


	2. Catchfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How quickly time passed, when he was with his beloved. An entire afternoon felt like nothing but a few flimsy seconds, and entire day perhaps a handful of minutes.

Sampson, blessed be his friend, had arranged their meetings. He’d always been of the clever sort, despite his constant tipping of the glass. But Sampson was older, already involved in multiple realms. Knew the right kind of people. More importantly he knew the _wrong_ kind of people. Which meant he always knew what to say. That man had a way with words, Karlheinz knew. And even if you disagreed with him, he’d always twist things in his favor, making it seem as though he’d been the one to make a large compromise when it was in fact the opposing party. 

It was positively frightening. 

In any case, when business took Sampson to the human world, he’d take Karlheinz with him, under the excuse that the Young Prince had to see more of the world. But sometimes he’d simply say they were going hunting. And with Sampson being as over-indulgent as he was, no one ever thought twice. 

Richter was also strangely supportive, covering for his brother on more than one occasion. There was some good in him after all, Karlheinz decided. He always knew there had to be. They were brothers, after all, and when it came down to it, brothers looked after each other. Though when asked, Richter always said it was because he hoped Karlheinz would finally become a man.

“It’s embarrassing, isn’t it? For your younger brother to have more experience?” It was usually here that he’d cackle, and walk away. But Karlheinz never thought much of it. Richter had always been loose with his women. He was sure that one day, once he fell in love as well, Richter would settle down. He simply had to find the right kind of girl. 

But despite it all Karlheinz was grateful. Deeply and humbly grateful. It was all because of their efforts, that he was allowed to see the light of his life. 

Their meetings were fleeting, most of the time. Small talk consisting of little moments Karlheinz would be sure to treasure forever. Like the way she laughed at him, when he inevitably made a fool of himself. But oh, it was such a beautiful sound, so deep and rich and _happy,_ he’d play the part of the fool for the rest of his life if she so wished. If only to hear her laugh that way for the rest of time. 

Oh, but even that would never be long enough. How quickly time passed, when he was with his beloved. An entire afternoon felt like nothing but a few flimsy seconds, an entire day perhaps a handful of minutes. But there were also times when they were granted with what felt like an eternity, losing themselves in laughter and sweet nothings. Where he felt as though he would stay lost in time with her, forever in each other’s company. 

And it was on a day such a this, the sun in their eyes and the wind grazing it’s fingers through her blonde hair, that Karlheinz declared his love. 

“Kar-el-heinz!” She sang, for that was how she said his name, this dulcet dove, “For you to say such a thing so boldly!” She turned her gaze away, a heavy blush very much apparent on her dark skin.

Karlheinz smiled, finding her embarrassment endearing. He plucked one of the many surrounding dandelions from it’s stem, and held it up to her. “Do you know what I’d wish for, Lisa?” 

She looked at him, those green eyes full of curiosity. 

“That you’d accept me for what I am.” 

“Haven’t I already done so?” She asked. 

Karlheinz blew on the weed, bits of fluff flying every which way, carried by the wind. A few landed atop Lisa’s nose, and she sneezed. “Karelheinz!” 

He chuckled, briefly, until he noticed the unamused scowl on her face. “Ah, forgive me.” He said, clearing his throat. 

She wiped her nose and cheeks, looking most inconvenienced. “Apologize properly, Karelheinz.” 

He was more than willing to do so. “I apologize most humbly, my princess.” 

She laughed at that, plucking her own dandelion and blowing it in his face. The sensation tickled, and he blinked rapidly to avoid getting any in his eyes. “There,” she said, smiling, “Now I’m satisfied.” 

He smiled weakly, clearing his throat again, “Lisa,” he began, “There’s something I must tell you.” 

Her face fell, as she looked at him. “You’re married.”

“What?”

“I know that as a prince you must be engaged,” her voice shook, “If that’s the case then I won’t ever speak to you again—“

He took her hands, holding them tenderly between his own. “I have no such engagements,” he assured her, “My heart belongs to you alone. But I was not completely honest with my status. Oh Lisa, will you ever forgive me?” 

She trembled, this fragile flower, her small hands shaking in his own. “Karelheinz, what is it?”

He told her. He tried to explain it carefully. Gently, in a way she might understand. 

“I won’t ever harm you, I swear it,” he cupped her cheeks between his palms, feeling suddenly bold, “And I won’t ever bite unless you allow. But Lisa, oh my darling Lisa,” he rested his forehead against hers, “To taste you, to finally _taste_ you—”

His speech was cut short, upon feeling her tears slide onto his thumbs. 

“Lisa—”

“I’m well aware of how much a vampire can taste,” she murmured through shaking lips, “I’m familiar with your kind,” her voice shook. “K-Karelheinz…” 

“Lisa.” He pulled her to him, but she continued to sob. He’d never been faced with something like this before. His darling, his angel, was _crying_ , and he had not the slightest idea what to do to help her. 

“Lisa, I won’t hurt you. I’d never—”

“It’s not that!” She _shouted,_ this tender fawn becoming a lioness before his eyes. She pulled away, meeting his gaze sharply, her expression hard. 

“You musn’t ever bite me.” She demanded. 

It was an ultimatum that pained him, but one he’d agree to if she insisted. “Lisa,” he said slowly, making sure not to excite her further, “It’s not so painful. I’d take every possible care, with you—”

She shook her head, pushing him away. “You don’t understand! It’s not you who’s deceived me, but I who’s deceived you!” 

“L-Lisa?” His heart palpitated, anxiety shooting through his veins.

She began sobbing all over again, her shoulders shaking as she brought her hands up to cover her face, that small frame of hers looking hopelessly… _small._

“I’m familiar with your kind,” she said between sobs, “I know you’ll be able to taste…I’m not who you think…selling flowers, it’s not enough…one would starve…I…”

“Lisa,” he pulled her hands away from her face, her eyes puffy and red as they looked at him, “Lisa whatever it is, let me fix it.” 

“You can’t fix it,” she shook, hugging herself, her cries finally calming down, “I…I’ve had others…men…”

The Young Prince swallowed thickly, “Lovers, you mean?” 

She looked up at him, the tears drying on her cheeks. “Clients.” 

Karlheinz felt his already tepid blood run cold, the hairs of his nape standing on end. 

“Oh Karelheinz!” She broke into sobs again, starting to stand up, “I won’t ever see you again! If you can find it in your heart to one day forgive me—”

He stood up just as quickly, grabbing her by the wrist, feeling as though she might shatter, “I…I don’t care about any of that.” He said quickly, a bit boldly.

Her lips parted in a soft gasp, as she tried to free herself from his hold, “You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m not…I don’t deserve a prince! Someone dirty and tainted like me! You hate me now— don’t do that, I can see it in your eyes— and even if you didn’t hate me how could I ever let you have my blood? Me, who must hold the taste of such unsightly—”

He pulled her to him once more, and once more she began to cry, choking on her sobs. “Karelheinz, Karelheinz…” She continued to sputter. 

“I could never hate you.” He said stiffly, patting her head gently, wanting to remember the way her hair felt between his fingers. “You’re right, you don’t deserve a prince. You deserve so much more than that, my darling Lisa. I have only this to offer you. Would you, if you were kind, accept the love of a man like me?” 

“You’re a fool,” she cried, “A complete and utter fool! You have everything to offer when I have nothing. What could I possibly give to you?” 

“Your love,” he said, “Would be more than enough.” 

“You’re stubborn,” she said, shaking her head, “You deserve so much better.” She turned to leave, but he pulled her back in.

“You’re right,” he swallowed, “Lisa, forgive me, I’m hopelessly stubborn. And spoiled, at that. I’m a prince after all. And all my life I’ve had whatever I wished. Right now, what I wish for, more than anything, is for you.” 

She shook, looking at him, those green eyes sparkly, hair swaying gently in the breeze. “I’m tainted,” she smiled sadly, “I’ll only do the same to you.” 

He laughed at that, somewhat relieved she was speaking normally, and not through tears. “I told you, didn’t I? That sort of thing doesn’t matter to me.”

“But your kingdom—”

“Marry me.”

Her eyes widened. “Karelheinz—”

He took her hands in his, bringing them up to his lips. He pressed against the soft skin, closing his eyes in silent hope. “Lisa Tache. Marry me.” 

“You foolish man!” She shouted, “What are you saying!” 

“I don’t care what you’ve done,” he hugged her, scared she might disappear, “I only wish to be the last one you hold.” 

“Karelheinz, you don’t know anything about me—”

“I know everything I need to,” he said confidently, “Please,” he squeezed her fragile frame, “Will you grant me this happiness?” 

Her hands felt ever so small, when they reached around to rest on his back. So timid she became, this fierce lioness of his had returned to being a frightened fawn. One he would protect with his everything. 

“If you are as happy as you say then how could I ever deny you? But Karelheinz,” she said seriously, looking at him with sharp green eyes, “You must not ever attempt to bite me. I could never live with the shame of you knowing—”

He kissed her, so enraptured had he become by the blush of her cheeks and the fear in her eyes. Never before had he done so, the action somewhat fumbled as a result, his lips clumsily claiming hers in sudden passion. 

He pulled away with his face about as red as hers, his heart racing and his lungs panting for breath. “If that is the only demand my future queen makes of me then I have no reason to object.” He smiled dumbly at her, thinking that perhaps once she became more comfortable, perhaps once she was officially his wife then he’d be allowed to indulge in her blood. And if it meant something as simple as waiting, then Karlheinz was more than willing. 

“I know nothing of how to be a queen.” She murmured softly. 

Karlheinz smiled, and then he laughed, hugging her tightly because that most certainly was not a refusal. 

“I will teach you.” 

“Karelheinz,” she said seriously, “Your promise. You must keep it.”

He nodded, smiling. “As you wish.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* flowers.
> 
> This fic is ruining my life. Why did I do this. Karlheinz you poor poor sweet innocent child...


	3. Geraniums

“You’re a fool, Karlheinz.” 

Conner cackled, “I think he should do it.” 

Sampson was not amused, his lips a thin line as he spoke. “He says that only because he wants the Kingdom to fall.” 

“Shame on you, Marcellus. As a Shiroyama it’s my _duty—_ ”

“That duty lies with the Sampsons and the Sampsons alone.” 

“Touchy~” Conner poked Sampson’s cheek, “Struck a nerve, did I?” 

Sampson’s eyes flashed. 

“Please,” Karlheinz sighed, the epitome of distress, “I will have to introduce her soon.”

“Ey, Vampire,” Conner nudged Sampson, “I say the Queen murders him before the King gets to pull out his sword.” 

Sampson smirked, “I had my money on Richter.” 

“I’m quite glad you all find this so amusing.” Karlheinz’s voice was primp. 

“You so obviously haven’t bedded the woman,” Conner said, “How can you possibly intend to marry her?” 

“There are more important things!” Karlheinz practically screeched, “I want her to be comfortable—”

“A woman’s comfort is of no consequence to men like us. Especially when said woman has human blood running in those veins. Do you truly intend not to bite?” 

Karlheinz swallowed, becoming noticeably pale as he closed his fists. “Until she is comfortable…” 

Conner and Sampson burst out laughing at that, in a rare moment of shared sentiments. “I give it one fuck!” Conner blurted, wiping the tears from his eyes, “He won’t be able to hold back.” 

“You are both dismissed,” Karlheinz said hotly, beginning to pace around the room. 

The laughter stopped, upon which Sampson nodded to Conner, and the Vibora knew enough to leave the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“Karlheinz,” Sampson began.

“I understand it well enough, Charles. This may all be a—a blague to you. But this is the woman I’ve chosen. Surely you can respect at least that much. You yourself have Amelia—”

“Ah, yes, Amelia.” Sampson sank down into one of the chairs, propping his legs up, “Will spend the night with any man but her own husband. Such a _peach_ that one.” 

Karlheinz wavered. “I want something real.” 

Sampson chuckled. “Real? I do wonder what that means.”

“Charles—”

“Don’t you _Charles_ me, Young Prince. If you haven’t figured it out by now then I wonder if you ever will.” 

“Figured what?” Karlheinz crinkled his features.

Smirking, Sampson tapped his own nose. “That woman’s scent. Haven’t you noticed anything peculiar?” 

The prince frowned. “I am aware of her past.” 

Sampson scoffed, smiling to himself. “Yes, well, I won’t spoil the fun then,” he said, standing up.

“Charles—” 

“You are as spoiled as you are impatient. You’ll realize it soon enough. As I said before, I won’t be here to pick up the pieces.” 

“You have no faith in me, do you?” 

Sampson bowed lowly, making a show of throwing his hand over his chest, “None whatsoever, Your Majesty.”

* * *

 

It went without saying, that not a single person approved of Lisa.

And Karlheinz thought it was rather cunning of his parents, to respond in such a way, setting up a ball as grand as this one, so that all of nobility would be obliged to attend. It gave Lisa such a stroke of terror that she had hidden herself away in her room, Karlheinz completely unable to coax her out. 

Because the dance was in his honor, he had a duty to his people, and therefore as much as he loved her, could not stay by her side. He understood her fears perfectly well, his poor angel of a girl. 

It weighed heavily on the young prince that his parents did not approve of his choice. That they had gathered all of his possible suitors in one place for this very reason. Because according to his father, a girl like her was less than dirt. 

It stung, naturally. But thankfully Richter had taken it upon himself to try and talk Lisa out of her worry. While she may not be a princess, she was the one Karlheinz had chosen. Surely, she could take confidence in that? But she was fragile, his flower. He took the opportunity to tell Sampson as such.

“Oh yes,” Sampson sneered, “Delicate things, women.” 

“Yes,” Karlheinz nodded eagerly, “Yes, that’s exactly it.” 

“In the meantime,” Sampson slapped Karlheinz’s back in both irritation and encouragement, “Don’t you think it’s unfair to leave your potential wives unattended?”

“I have no interest—”

“Cordelia is here, did you know?”

“She’s but a child!” 

Sampson couldn’t help the smirk that slid across his face, “That may be. But children grow up, Karlheinz. And that particular child happens to be the Demon King’s daughter.” 

“As advantageous as a union of that sort might be, Charles, I—”

A group of children ran by just then, chasing a young girl with purple hair, teasing and squealing and giggling. “Octopus—Octopus—Octopus!!”

Sampson clicked his tongue. “Such cruel little things, children are. Karlheinz, I don’t suppose—”

Charles didn’t have to say anything, for Karlheinz’s legs to already be moving on their own. In a moment, with a single wave of his hand, the children surrounding the young girl were gone. Cordelia looked up at her savior, with a bright blush to her cheeks, before she smiled pleasantly up at him. 

“Thank you very much, My Lord, but we were all just having fun. You scared my friends away!” She giggled girlishly, her long locks bouncing around her face. 

Karlheinz bent down slightly, giving her a knowing smile. “Friends do not make friends cry, Cordelia.” 

She averted her eyes, touching her hair subconsciously. “They don’t like my hair.

“Why ever not?”

“Because it’s purple.” She whispered. 

“Well, what they think doesn’t really matter. Do you like it?”

She noticeably chewed the inside of her cheeks, shaking her head as she looked at the ground, but even still Karlheinz could see the fire that burned in those eyes. “I hate it. I wish I could just chop it all off!” 

The Young Prince’s eyes widened, rather shocked at the sudden tone of her voice. “Oh, don’t say something like that,” he urged, suddenly completely aware of the fact that he had no idea what to say at all, “Women are so lovely when they grow their hair out.” 

Cordelia felt her cheeks grow even hotter, looking at the prince with rather shy eyes. “Do you like women with long hair, My Lord?” 

“Well yes, it’s quite comely don’t you think?” He smiled, tucking some hair behind her ear, “And you’re quite pretty yourself, Cordelia. Don’t let those other children say otherwise.” 

The young girl smiled broadly. “Then, My Lord, if I grow my hair out, won’t you dance with me?”

He chuckled at that, promising her a dance now if it meant she continued to smile. Cordelia agreed happily. 

From the far corner of the room, Sampson watched with crossed arms and a satisfied smile. For once, the young prince seemed to be doing something right. In a few short years the demon girl would be of age. There was no greater advantage than that. 

“The Humberts are here.” 

Conner’s drunken breath was nauseating. “I’ve no interest in Scarlett. She is a potential wife to our lord. Anything of the sort would be betrayal, Shiroyama.” 

Conner cackled, wagging his fingers, “Not her. Henrietta.”

His interest was caught, admittedly, but currently, Sampson had to watch over Karlheinz. 

Because Karlheinz was an idiot. 

“If you wished to be stripped of your money then so be it.” 

Conner grinned. “Aren’t you curious?” 

“Not in the least.” 

He moved away from the Vibora, hands clasped behind his back as he observed the room. Events like these were always so full of people. It allowed for rather honest expressions, granted by the anonymity of the crowds. To him, it was simply fascinating. 

Given that he was a rather curious man himself, he did find his gaze lingering to one particular corner of the room, in which a beautiful young woman sat, laughing and surrounded by some of the most eligible bachelors of the demon world. 

What sort of game was she playing, he wondered. 

He was taking quite a bit of joy in it as well, in his many observations, until something collided against his legs. 

“Oy, watch where you’re going!” 

Sampson hid his grimace behind a smile. “I believe that’s my, line, isn’t it—” he bit his tongue, realizing it wasn’t just any child, “Young Master Tsukinami. Having fun, are we?” 

The young boy stuck his tongue out, pulling down on his eye and letting out a ‘blegh’ sound. “I’m not a kid, old man.” 

A sudden urge to kill trickled down his spine. “No,” he continued charmingly, “Why, you must be seven whole years old.” 

“I’m thirteen you piece of shit.” 

By the grace of whatever gods were watching over this little brat of a child, Sampson did not strike his pathetic face. It did not matter in any case, because the orange haired boy had run off. 

It was not yet morning and he was already exhausted. The sight of Richter only made him more so. 

“Unaccompanied, Sakamaki?”

Richter seemed slightly startled, but quickly regained composure. “The young lady refuses to come out of the room.” 

Sampson smiled. “Yes, I suppose that didn’t stop you from going in, though, did it?” 

“Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Sampson.”

“If it involves the Young Prince then I am inclined to question, Richter.” 

“Don’t call my name so casually. You’re below me—”

“And _you_ are below Karlheinz. Though I suppose you always were stealing his toys—”

Richter faltered a bit, despite the fact that he laughed. “So? Will you oust me, then?”

At this, Sampson smiled honestly. “Only when it becomes convenient for me.” 

Richter scoffed. “You talk too much, Sampson.”

“Words,” he said, bowing humbly, “Are my specialty.” 

With that he excused himself, finding the second brother to be too much of a headache, and the entire ordeal too much of a problem. Regardless, it would fix itself soon enough. To be told not to bite…

Not even Sakamaki Karlheinz would stand being defanged. 

In an attempt to calm himself, Sampson turned his gaze back to the corner of the room that held the Humbert’s second daughter, keeping his eyes on her as he walked idly through a crowd. 

It had been quite a while, since he’d played any games. And more than anything else, he was curious. 

So with calm strides, he enteredthe intimate circle, Henrietta’s laughter cut short as he stood before her. 

“Would you care to dance, Lady Humbert?” 

Though her eyes widened, she hid her smile with her fan, stroking the air slowly. “I was having fun here. Won’t you join us, Sir…?”

“If you wish to know, you’ll grant me a dance.” 

Her eyes flashed, and her fanning slowed, until she closed the device in its entirety, handing it off to one of the men by her side. “Won’t you hold this until I return?” The gentleman agreed, naturally, one of them giving off a whistle or two as Henrietta stood up. 

She smiled pleasantly, curtseying politely before Sampson, upon which he held out his arm, and she placed her palm over his hand, allowing him to guide her to the dance floor. 

“Well then,” She began, “Your name?”

"Marcellus Sampson. But you may call me Charles."

"I think Marcellus suits you just fine. Age?"

"Not an hour over twenty-three."

She hummed at that. "Single?"

"That is entirely up to you, my lady."

"I do so hate dishonest men."

"We've only just met, and already you accuse me of lies? Women are truly incredible."

"You are quite married, Sir Sampson.”

“So you _do_ know me after all.”

“You’re rather famous, Sir.” 

“Your name precedes you as well, Lady Humbert.” 

She scoffed, “I do wonder what they say about me…”

“I’m sure you’re already more than aware.” 

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, gliding gracefully as he spun her out, and then pulled her back in, “But then there’d be no fun.” Her eyes gleamed, the closer he brought her against his chest, and Sampson couldn’t help but think that something like this might very well be dangerous. 

He expected at least a few more dances from her, but was surprised, or rather, not quite so surprised, when she pulled away after just one. 

“Thank you kindly for the dance, Sir Marcellus Sampson.” 

He took her hand, feeling as if she might slip away if he didn’t do so. “Would you care for another?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“Am I not a satisfactory dancer?” 

“On the contrary,” she mused, “You are perhaps one of the best partners I’ve had in a while.” 

“Then? Your reasoning for refuting me?” 

“I’ve no interest in this sort of thing, Sir Sampson.” 

“Do make yourself more clear, Lady Humbert. I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.” 

Henrietta batted her lashes, “If it’s fun you’re after, a Vibora is more your tastes. However, if it’s a wife you seek, I do not fancy second place.” 

Sampson gave a chuckle that was more of a scoff. She seemed… _serious._ But she was the second daughter, was she not? Where did she get such gall? 

“If it were fun I were after, Lady Humbert—”

“Henrietta,” she corrected, with a rather lamenting expression. 

He leaned in, “I think Lady Humbert suits you just fine.” 

She laughed at that, rather honestly from what Sampson could tell, shaking her head and closing her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, “I suppose that’s fair.” 

Enchanting was the only word that came to mind. To her it could hardly be considered a game, if she won so easily. Because despite his own instincts, despite knowing full and well that he should simply let her walk away, he insisted once more.

“Shall I ask you again? Another dance.” 

“And I will tell you again. I’ve not interest—”

“You’ve interest in money, do you not?” He generally did not speak so quickly, and without thinking. But she was beginning to irritate him, in a very poignant and unique sort of way.

Her features hardened, though she was good at hiding it. “Ah,” her lips teased into a smile, “So that is what they say about me,” she giggled, “Will you pay me to dance with you? Surely you’re not so lonely.” 

“Men like me are never lonely, my dear.” 

“No,” she hummed, “I suppose you wouldn’t be. Well then, Sir Sampson. All this insisting and you’ve yet to compliment me.” 

“I shall leave the compliments to your boys over there,” he returned, “Though I will say I admire your candor.” 

She stared at him, breathing softly. “You mock me.”

“That is up to you in it’s entirety.” 

She glanced over to the group of men she had been with, before looking at him again. “Beatrix Evans, do you know her?” 

“Naturally.” 

“Then it’s only logical that you’re aware of Scarlett as well.” 

“Logical indeed.”

“They will be meeting with the Sakamakis more frequently. As her sister I will be obligated to attend.” 

“Yes, I would assume as much.” 

“By then, won’t you be terribly bored of me, Sir Sampson? And I of you?” 

He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the back of her palm politely. “Once again, Lady Humbert, that will all remain entirely up to you.”

* * *

 

Karlheinz knocked timidly against his beloved’s door, upon which she opened it with perhaps more shyness than his own. 

“I’m so embarrassed.” 

“Balls are not for everyone,” he soothed, “You do not have to do anything until you are more comfortable.” 

“Already, I’m failing you.”

“No, please don’t say such things—”

“Karelheinz,” she breathed, opening the door just a tad more, “Won’t you come in? Somehow I’ll be more at ease, if you’re by my side.” 

The young prince swallowed, swaying slightly where he stood. “That…that would not be appropriate of me, Lisa.” 

She gave a soft nod, lowering her head with downcast eyes. “…won’t we be married soon enough?” 

“Of course—”

“Then?” She looked at him, those eyes full of tears, “You’ve grown disillusioned?” 

“No,” he panicked, “Never—”

The door opened fully, though Lisa still stood behind it. “Please? For me?” 

With a shaky breath, and even shakier legs, Karlheinz stepped through the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back...back again...
> 
> Hoooooo boy am I so fucking ready. YOU GUYS. The fucking links between the other two stories. Finallyyyyyy. Gaaaahhhh. So ready. I accidentally fell in love with my own OC woops. *swoons for Sampson* 
> 
> I can't wait until Karlheinz snaps. As much as I love innocent baby boy I'm kind of ready for Daddy Sakamaki ;D Let me know what you think!


	4. Yellow Chrysanthemum

Conner pulled at Karlheinz, holding him back, while Sampson pushed up the young prince’s sleeves. 

At the sight of it, the Vibora burst into laughter. 

Sampson sighed, letting the prince go, Karlheinz sliding his sleeve back down in a fluster. “It’s not what it—”

“Consumated the marriage a bit early, ey My Lord? How was she? A former prostitute must’ve given you quite the service—”

Conner’s jaw _cracked,_ head shooting up from the strength of Karlheinz’s fist. 

Sampson clicked his tongue, stopping the Young Prince’s hand before it had the chance to swing again. “Now, now, My Lord. If it is violence you insist upon, allow me to be your weapon. A prince should not sully his hands with such crude acts.” 

Karlheinz exhaled sharply, his temper rising, “Never in my life…” 

Conner stretched out his jaw, rubbing his cheek. “A nice hit indeed, My Lord.” He added humbly. 

“Get out, Shiroyama.” 

The Vibora raised an eyebrow, glancing at Sampson before spitting out some blood, and then leaving the room. 

Sampson took the liberty of shutting the door behind the Vibora. 

“Care to explain, My Lord?” Sampson said, once the door was closed. 

“Isn’t it self explanatory?”

“Most thing are not.” Sampson said smartly. 

Karlheinz rolled up his sleeves, showing off his own fang bites. “How much will I have to endure? She refuses—”

“Then bite. It is your right, is it not?” 

“If I do…” Karlheinz ran a hand through his hair, “She was furious. I’ve never met a woman so—so _stubborn_ —“ 

“You still intend to marry her.” 

Karlheinz looked at him with pitiful eyes. “It will just take some time…” 

Sampson unsheathed his sword, Karlheinz flinching slightly before the weapon fell to his feet. The way it clattered against the ground was unsettling. 

"Charles--"

"I relinquish my sword to you, Sakamaki."

"Charles," Karlheinz began, "Don't be unreasonable--"

"I believe that's my line--"

"Please-"

"For you to not--even for _you_ , Karlheinz, it's too much--"

"Well how do you think I feel!?" Karlheinz yelled, surprising Sampson. The prince shoved up his sleeves, eyes set ablaze, shaking his arm, "To have to go this far! How can a man endure it?? Is this what they mean when they say love drives you to madness? I love her, Charles, but I swear I--"

His rant was cut short by Sampson's chuckles, the older man running a hand through his brown hair. 

Karlheinz snarled, picking up the sword and pushing it onto Sampson's chest, making sure he took hold of it. "Until you are dismissed you will remain a royal guard. You have no say in the matter." 

"It's not madness," Sampson said with a knowing smile, "It's sexual deprivation." 

Karlheinz ran a hand through disheveled hair again, closing his eyes, “Do not say such things so lightly.” 

“Well,” Sampson leaned back, relaxing in the armchair, enjoying himself, “You have something to look forward to.” 

Karlheinz made a pained sort of face, looking at Sampson for a way to escape. “Must I—”

“The human will have to attend as well. What a rare occasion to see her in a dress, don’t you think so, Karlheinz?” 

“I suppose…”

“All the women in that room will be fighting for you favor. Perhaps try to act more humble, my lord.” 

“I am humble,” he snapped, “I simply have no interest in trying to pick a wife from a field of wild flowers—”

“Isn’t that exactly what you’ve done?” 

Karlheinz shot the royal guard a sharp glare. 

Sampson bit back his smile. “Come now, Karlheinz. The Humberts will be there. As will Cordelia. The Haradas, Changs, Castillos…oh,” he paused, wanting Karlheinz to look at him, in order to catch young prince’s expression. “And the Evans heir.” 

Karlheinz’s eyes widened, before narrowing in suspicion. “Beatrix?” 

“Do get ready, My Lord. Company is waiting.” 

…

Karlheinz had always found meetings like these dreadfully boring. Or rather, he supposed they were intended to be more like gatherings. But whatever the name, it was always the exact same routine. Ladies trying to win his favor, he trying to politely decline, his gentry trying to take advantage of the fact. 

But, at the very least, this time…

Lisa was beautiful. Her dress was perhaps more subtle than those of the other women, but it still hugged her shape beautifully. And from what Karlheinz remembered of her shape…

The memories of the night they shared came in hot flashes that made him rather uncomfortable, the future king left to fidget in his seat. 

“My Lord,” Scarlett Humbert purred, leaning into him, “Are you all right?” 

“Yes,” he straightened, “I’m fine.” 

Lisa glanced at him, and he made an effort to separate himself from Lady Humbert. Scarlett did not seem to notice, however, striking up a conversation with him about her latest trip to the human realm. He couldn’t exactly bring himself to find it interesting. 

“…red, can you believe it? Of all the colors for this human to wear…”

He found himself tuning her out, his ears catching bits and pieces of other’s conversations. 

“…of class. It’s nothing to do with it. I believe His Majesty has made a fine choice in choosing Sir Sampson.”

“You flatter me, my dear.” 

Karlheinz grimaced. Beatrix was always far too serious. And Sampson far too flirtatious. None of this caught his interest in the slightest. He couldn’t even speak to Lisa, seeing as she was far too shy. 

What had he gotten himself into? 

“…to your liking, My Lord?” 

He blinked, looking at Beatrix, trying to fill in the parts of the question he’d missed. Luckily, Sampson answered for him.

“Such a thing goes without saying. His Majesty is always quite fond of your company’s tea.” 

Beatrix not once took her eyes from him, and Karlheinz was forced to meet her gaze. Despite himself, there was no denying her beauty, particularly when she smiled, her usually cold expression brightening .

“Is that so,” her cheeks warmed, blue eyes shining, “Then, I’m glad. In place of my father, we are both honored and humbled that they meet your standards, Karlheinz-sama.” She bowed her head in respect, before turning her attention to the rest of the group, sipping on her tea. 

“I feel rather out of place here.” Lisa managed to whisper, and Karlheinz quickly turned to her, hoping to ease her worries, but at that moment, he heard Beatrix laugh.

“You’re far too bold,” she chastised, shaking her head at the royal guard. 

In truth, Karlheinz had never heard the lady laugh before. But pulling unique expressions from people seemed to be Sampson’s favorite pastime. Perhaps it should not have bothered him as much as it did. 

All he could manage was an encouraging pat to Lisa’s thigh, before he was pulled into a new conversation, forcing a smile and trying to suppress the memories of the night he’d spent in Lisa’s room. 

On the opposite wall, Henrietta sat, watching the festivities in a rare moment when she found herself alone. But with gatherings like these there was never anyone who would be interested in someone like her. Not when there were more than just a handful of women who promised the inheritance of their father’s riches. 

Though it did become rather lonely when even Beatrix was choosing to ignore her. Not that Henrietta could muster up the energy to be angry. Besides, Beatrix was only trying to secure her own future, just as was every other woman in the room. Henrietta thought she was perhaps the most likely to win Karlheinz’s favor, seeing as they both had a rather human way of deciding their morals. And, from the way Karlheinz was looking at her now, Henrietta thought it wouldn’t be long before the young prince finally saw reason. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Scarlett’s high pitched screech of a laugh, and Henrietta decided she’d had enough of simply watching. Her sister was a complete embarrassment. 

So Henrietta got up, making her way further into the room, where the endless rows of books were kept. Without looking at the title, she grabbed a book, and opened it.

Not that this much more interesting than the company she found herself with. 

But, if her instincts were right…

“Do you enjoy books, Lady Humbert?”

The voice was one she recognized far too easily. Low and deep and just behind her, at a distance that could hardly be considered gentlemanly. 

Henrietta barely threw him a glance, her eyes skimming down the page. “Not particularly.”

“Oh?”

“Books get dreadfully boring towards the middle,” she closed the book with a single hand, turning her head to look at him, “Is there something I can help you with, Sir Sampson?” 

“It seems rather unlike you to separate from the group.”

She scoffed, putting the book back and pulling out another. “What would you know of me?” 

“Well,” he stepped closer, “That is precisely what I intend to find out.” 

She pushed the book into his chest, effectively creating some distance between them. “Their talk is bothersome. And that human aggravates me.” 

“I should warn you,” he said, putting the book away, following her into the next shelf, “You should not speak that way of the future Queen.” 

Henrietta laughed whole-heartedly at that, letting her nail graze along the spines of the books. 

He followed her with curious eyes. “May I ask what you find so amusing?”

She looked at him with a sharp stare. “Will no one tell him?” 

Sampson smirked, “Whatever do you mean?” 

Henrietta straightened, looking Sampson up and down, thinking it through before she spoke. “No…” she decided, “It’s not my business.” 

“Do continue, My Lady. You’ve piqued my interest.” 

She pursed her lips, picking out another book and aimlessly flipping through the pages. “You are not as loyal as you claim, if you know as much as I.” 

“A rather grave accusation.” 

“A truthful one, nonetheless.” 

“Incredible. Every time we meet you accuse me of lying.” 

She glanced at him innocently. “That’s your specialty isn’t it? Manipulation.” 

“I don’t believe I’m any sort of match when compared to you, Lady Humbert.” 

“Your flattery would be well received were it not coated in such blatant mockery.” 

“You said something similar last we met. Shall I compliment you in earnest instead?” 

She scrunched up her features, “Do not shift the subject so casually—”

“That necklace,” he began, ignoring her entirely, “A ruby, isn’t it? A gorgeous stone, of course. But it is made beautiful only because it rests upon a neck as pale as yours.” 

Henrietta smirked, shoving the book back in its place. “I have received many a finer compliment.” 

“That I have no doubts of.” 

“Don’t you? I find it disappointing, coming from a man who is so well known for his words.” 

“I’m afraid I’m no romantic, my dear.” 

“Unlike Karlheinz, you mean to say.” 

It was now Sampson’s turn to smirk. “Tell me. What is it you suspect?” 

She looked at him, before glancing over at the party of vampires. She grabbed Sampson by the ruffles of his necktie, crouching slightly behind the bookshelf, whispering. “Do you see that?” 

If Sampson were to answer honestly, he’d say his vision were currently impaired from the way the woman holding his tie was emitting a sweet smell, the corset of her dress pushing up her breasts in the latest fashion that men like him were only all too grateful for.

“Perhaps if you could specify what it is I’m looking at, Lady Humbert.” He managed.

She nodded towards the group, pointing with a ringed finger. “Every woman has her feet pointed towards Karlheinz. Every single one with her chest puffed proudly in his direction. All except the human. Why do you think that is?”

Sampson shot her a glance. “Hm? Karlheinz has declared her his. Perhaps she is confident in that fact.”

Henrietta let go of his collar. “Truly I did not think you so stupid.” 

This woman was becoming more and more interesting. Never before had he been spoken to in such candid fashion. “It is not so much my stupidity as it is your skill, Lady Humbert.”

“Analyzing people is what you’re known for, Sir Sampson,” she looked at him with a bored expression, “Do not mock me by feigning ignorance.” 

“Very well,” he smiled charmingly, not wanting to lose her favor, “Then do continue in your analysis, and I will listen with attention.” 

She glanced at him doubtfully, but leaned into him once again, and once again Sampson was granted that faint, sweet scent. “The human…she’s looking at Karlheinz. But her body is facing Richter.” 

“Oh my. Are you perhaps suggesting—” 

“You know it just as well as I.” 

“As expected, you say it with impeccable confidence.” 

“It’s the only explanation,” she said easily, moving away, “One that is not so difficult to determine.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” He asked, fully intrigued.

Henrietta pulled out another book, opening it and flipping through pages she had no intention of reading. “She’s not been bitten. For Karlheinz to sustain in such regard would mean she asked him not to bite. If he did bite, after all…” She turned to him rather playfully, biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling, “Infidelity leaves a rather sour taste on the tongue, does it not?” 

Clapping slowly, Sampson scoffed, shaking his head. “How positively terrifying. I don’t believe I’ve ever met a woman so cunning.” 

At that, her face dropped entirely, and she put the book away rather roughly. “All women are cunning,” she said, turning her back to him, “I am among the least, for my inability to keep quiet.” 

What he did was perhaps bold in its own right, but it had been a long time since Sampson had felt the blood rushing in his veins. 

With swift calmness, he caged her between himself and the bookshelf, leaning down to meet her gaze. “Among the least? For such a thing? I much prefer talkative women.”

Henrietta looked up at him, hardly fazed. “Then may I suggest, a bird?”

Sampson crinkled his features, “A bird?”

“Yes, they’re rather loud, or so I hear. I’m sure it’d be more than willing to sing for you with a voice much prettier than any woman’s.” 

“My dear,” Sampson smirked, leaning in, “I’d much rather hear you sing for me.” 

Henrietta laughed at that, crouching down so she could escape under his arms, “To hold myself to your standards…that is the last thing I wish to do.” 

“Would such a thing be so terrible?” 

She turned to him, lifting her hands up in such a way that he thought he’d be smacked. 

It wouldn’t be the first time a woman had hit him, after all. 

Instead, however, she adjusted his collar, which he assumed must have been left askew, from the way she’d grabbed him before. 

“If such a thing were to happen, Sir Sampson,” she patted the ruffles, assuring they were in place, before looking at him with playful eyes, “I’d be ever so devastated if you lost interest in me.” 

She didn’t allow him a chance to reply, returning to the safety of the group. Upon taking her seat, she smiled to herself, knowing that not only had she been followed by Sampson’s gaze, but she’d managed to capture the attention of the young prince as well.

Not that something like that would ever amount to anything. 

Karlheinz watched as Henrietta Humbert returned to the center of the room, though he hadn’t quite caught when she’d managed to leave in the first place. His entire mind was in a fog, seeing as he’d lost Lisa in the crowd. Perhaps she’d run off again, frightened by what it meant to stand by his side. It seemed that all he did was fill her with worry. After this was over, he thought, he’d have to speak to her. 

The clicking of heels pulled him from his thoughts, one of the maids of the palace pushing in a cart with spare refreshments. 

He knew she’d fall before it happened, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stand, instead watched the disaster occur, everyone falling to silence to watch the maid covered in boiling tea. 

Henrietta was the first to react, pulling out her fan to hide her laughter. “Should someone so inept be working for a King?” 

Sampson added a chuckle of his own, which Karlheinz resented. Beatrix managed to hush her friend. 

At this Karlheinz stood up, and called upon the maid. 

“Come with me.” 


	5. Gardenia

The maid trailed behind him quietly, hanging her head. 

“You do not need to do such a thing.” 

“I—”

“Through here, please.” Karlheinz held the door open for her, allowing her to step into the infirmary. The doctor the palace kept seemed to be absent. 

With a shrug of his shoulders, Karlheinz took off his jacket, hanging it by the door. “Please sit down,” he told her, “I’ll assess the damage.” 

The maid was frigid, sitting perfectly straight, her neck noticeably tense. “I’m fine, My Lord. Please, someone like you shouldn’t—”

“I’ve studied medicine,” Karlheinz said with a smile, “For once I might actually put it to use.” He offered his hands, upon which the maid hesitantly stretched out her arms, letting him look at her. 

“You are as kind as they say.” She whispered softly.

He looked up at her, giving her a smile, “I make it a point to familiarize myself with those who serve us. I find a small bit of kindness goes a long way.”

In truth it was not so serious a matter. He rubbed a cooling lotion over her arms, one that was made of some of the finest medicinal herbs the demon world had to offer. She sat quiet and red all the while, allowing Karlheinz to do his work. 

The Young Prince swallowed thickly, suddenly hyper aware of the maid’s scent. It was repressed, he could tell at least that much. But from the way her blood was rushing beneath her skin, he couldn’t help but think that…

Well, Sampson had always told him as such. That Karlheinz could have any woman wrapped around his finger, if he so chose. But that hardly seemed likely, when Lisa herself was so…

But this woman, this maid, was certainly flush because of him. 

Perhaps it was a bit mischievous, considering there was no real need to confirm his suspicions, especially to a poor maid who had already suffered so much embarrassment. But he brought her hand up to his lips regardless, quickly licking the back of her palm, the burn erasing as if it’d never occurred. 

She yelped, pulling her hand away, her eyes wide and her heart pounding so fiercely that even Karlheinz could hear it. 

He couldn’t help but find it all amusingly curious. 

“Forgive my boldness,” he said with a boyish smile, “It is the most effective way to heal someone, after all.” 

“Y-Yes,” she clutched her hand to her chest, bowing her head, “Yes, thank you, Sakamaki-sama.” 

How endearing that the help had grown fond of him. It was with a rather proud smile that he acknowledged her appreciation, before urging her to return to her work, Karlheinz putting his jacket back on. 

Just as she was reaching for the door, however, it opened towards her. 

“Sampson,” Karlheinz said, slightly surprised.

The maid bowed her head, formally greeting the lord. 

“Christa’s had another attack.” 

Sampson watched with amusement as the young prince raced out of the room, white hair flying behind him as he rushed down the hallway. 

He chuckled to himself, before realizing the maid was still there, red-faced and with shortened breath. 

“Oh?” he smirked, “And whatever happened to you?”

…

“Karlheinz!” Christa’s book fell into her lap, her posture sharpening from the way the young prince burst through the door. 

“Sampson told me—”

“I only just fainted—”

“You know you’re weak to sunlight—”

_“Sakamaki-sama,”_ the nurse was a plump sort of woman, a vampire from the countryside with no regard for royalty. “If you cannot _calm_ yourself then get out! I’ve had a devil of a time seeing that _this_ one doesn’t die of a fever!” 

“Yes,” he gave a short but humble bow, allowing himself to catch his breath, realizing he’d nearly been shouting this entire time. “Yes, of course, forgive me.” 

“Gertrude,” Christa smiled softly, “I’ll be quite all right. If Karlheinz is here…”

Gertrude let out a _hmph_ of a sound, before leaving the room, not bothering to excuse herself. 

“However do you deal with that woman?”

Christa chuckled, rearranging the book that had fallen, closing it properly and setting it beside her on the bed. “Gertrude knows me best.” She insisted. 

Karlheinz pulled up a chair, so that he could sit next to her. 

“I do feel so dreadfully guilty.” She sighed.

“You’ve no reason—”

“Everyone is always so worried about me. If only I were a little stronger—”

“The fault does not fall upon your shoulders.”

She smiled tenderly, tugging aimlessly at her fingers. “I’m afraid it is, Karlheinz. Not matter how many times you choose to refute it.”

“Then I will refute it until you see reason.” 

She giggled lightly, shaking her head, “Reason points to the fact that I am not fit to be an immortal.” 

“That’s preposterous. You’re a Sakamaki, after all.” 

She glanced at him, before looking down at her hands, “Isn’t that all the more cruel?” 

Karlheinz wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “Christa—”

Her head lifted before he had the chance to finish, and he was greeted with a bright, smiling face, “What of your human bride?” 

“She’s…well it’s as you’d expect…of a human—to be put into a situation such as this one…” he struggled, trying to find the right words, “No one approves—”

She laughed again, “Uncle was furious. Though I’m not sure what he expected me to do. Talk sense into you, I suppose.”

“Do you, too, find me mad?” 

She smiled kindly, “Only just.” 

Karlheinz returned it, letting out a frustrated sort of sigh. 

“You mustn’t be too angry with Uncle,” Christa continued, “He knows things we could never begin to imagine. If he so strongly objects, then perhaps—”

“I understand that well enough,” Karlheinz sighed, “But for once, I want this to be something that I’ve chosen. Not something that he approves of because of whatever future he claims to have seen—”

“Put yourself in his shoes, Karlheinz,” Christa urged, “One day you will host the same power—”

“I don’t want it.” 

Christa burst into a fit of coughs, to which Karlheinz immediately helped her sit up, handing her a glass of water and rubbing her back until the abuse to her fragile body ended. 

With a heavy inhale, she thanked him, resting back against the pillow. “I suppose getting sick and fainting spurts are quite typical of me, aren’t they?” She laughed sadly, “Of course they would occur at the same time…” 

“Forgive me for making you speak so much—”

She raised her hand, waving away his words, “I’m grateful. I have Gertrude but it does get rather…lonely…” 

He pushed her hair back and kissed her forehead, telling her to get some rest. “You’re far too pale. As my favorite cousin, you must take care of yourself.” 

“Karlheinz,” she smiled, “I am your _only_ cousin.”

He chuckled, taking her hands, “Well I don’t see how that changes matters.” 

She gave a somber sort of expression, before staring at their hands. Karlheinz looked at her curiously. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Your hands have always been warm.”

“So that I may heat yours up, naturally.” 

She blushed at that, shaking her head once more. “Manos frias…amor de un dia. Isn’t that how the saying goes?” 

Karlheinz hummed at that, “The phrase I’m familiar with has to do with kindness.”

Her eyes widened, as if asking him to go on. He squeezed her palms, “Those who are kind will always have cold hands, because they are willing to give their warmth to those who need it.” 

She giggled, averting her gaze, her eyes crinkling in happiness. “You’re too optimistic for your own good, My Lord.” 

He reached over to kiss her forehead again, bidding her a proper goodbye and insisting she sleep. 

“Karlheinz,” she said, just as he reached the door, “Please visit again.”

He nodded, smiling at her. “Of course.” 

He began heading back towards the parlor, feeling more at ease with himself knowing that Christa was not in any critical danger. He didn’t make it far, however, before running into Sampson. 

“My Lord,” he bowed, “How is she? To be so troubled at sixteen…” 

“She will be fine. Though she will need sleep,” he sighed, falling into step with his friend, “There is so much weakness in the world, Sampson. If only there were a way to cure it.” 

“There’s more weakness than you’d ever know what to do with, Young Prince. Don’t go getting strange ideas in that head of yours.” 

“It is a simple statement, Charles.” 

The swordsman hummed, tucking his hands behind his back, “The maid was rather flustered after you left. Did you assault her?”

“Assault—” 

Sampson chuckled again, shaking his head, “Whatever did you do to the poor woman?” 

Karlheinz lifted his head, holding it proudly, “I did nothing suspicious.” 

“Something that might threaten your union to the human, perchance?” 

“Absolutely not! I merely licked her—” he stopped himself.

“Oh?” the swordsman smirked, “Pray tell, Lord Sakamaki. Wherever did you lick for her to hold such an expression?” 

“The back of her palm! To heal the burns of the tea! Nothing more!” 

Sampson could no longer hold back his laughter, holding onto his stomach as he leaned on the prince’s shoulder for support. “You truly are deprived of blood.” 

“Th-That’s…” he struggled, “It’s nothing to do with blood—”

“My Lord,” the expression Sampson showed him just then was terrifying, the way he squeezed his shoulder even more so, “It’s _everything_ to do with it.” 

He let the prince go, laughing just as easily as if they’d been mentioning the weather, his usual expression returning. “Well, you’ll realize soon enough. I bid my leave, for now.” 

“Where to? The others are still in the drawing room, are they not?” 

“Most, yes.” Sampson grinned. 

Karlheinz raised his eyes knowingly. “Scarlett’s sister. You’re quite taken with her.” 

“To be honest, Sakamaki, I don’t quite know myself.” He smacked Karlheinz on the back as he left, heading down the hallway in the opposite direction. 

…

Charles Marcellus Sampson followed the faint scent of cherries, not knowing where he walked, only knowing that as the scent got stronger…

She was just coming through a door, adjusting her blonde-brown hair over her shoulder, touching the red hat that sat atop her head. 

“Lady Humbert,” he drawled, coming up behind her, “I expected to find you here.” 

She turned to him with wide eyes, dropping her hand slowly from her hair, “You expected to find me…” she began, glancing back at the door she’d just come out of, “On my way back from the powder room?” 

He grinned, faltering only slightly, “It seems I’ve been caught.” 

“A bit too easily,” she said carelessly, waving him away, “If that was all you wished to say—”

“Actually,” he continued, just as smoothly, “I was hoping to escort you through the gardens. It’s a place I find most women tend to enjoy.” 

“I’ve seen the royal gardens enough times to bore me to tears, Sir Sampson. Thank you so very kindly for your offer, but I’m afraid I must refuse—”

“You forget one very important thing, Lady Humbert—”

“And what might that be—”

“Never before have you been escorted by Yours Truly.” 

She smiled wryly, adjusting her earring though it needed no adjustment, “All the more reason to refuse.” 

“Such a cruel woman,” he sighed.

“Such a persistent man.” 

“Do you dislike persistent men?”

She pursed her lips into what might be considered a smile, looking up at him with playful eyes, “They are perhaps the most curious.” 

He glanced at her with a sideways sort of smile, before looking in the opposite direction. “Very well, I suppose it can’t be helped.” 

“You are quick to assume, Sir Sampson.” 

“Oh?” 

“Being a man of such high rank it would be considered rude to refute such an offer. Therefore I am inclined to accept.” 

He chuckled, “Is that so?” 

She led the way, heading towards the garden, “Please do hurry, Sir Sampson,” she held her hand up, so that he may offer her his elbow, “The gardens will wilt by the time we arrive.” 

Sampson felt his blood rush from sheer frustration. 

“A rather dramatic notion, my lady.” 

“Not when one considers how slowly you step.” She smirked. 

“My footwork is not the problem, I assure you.” 

“Ah, that’s right,” she answered, finally taking a hold of his arm, “Swordsmen are supposed to be rather light on their feet, aren’t they?” 

“Indeed, my lady.” 

She blinked innocently, a mischievous smile claiming her lips, “Then I can’t possibly fathom why you choose to continue at a snail’s pace.”

Sampson scoffed, licking his own lips in disbelief, “Isn’t that obvious?” He mused, “To extend the time spent with you.” 

She pressed herself closer, giving his arm a light squeeze. 

“Flattery doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m often told the opposite.”

“You said you appreciate candor. I’ll have you know I’m much the same.”

“Then, shall I win you over with honesty?”

“With or without is beyond me. I don’t believe a man like you is capable of truth.”

“You sting my pride, Lady Humbert.”

“Perhaps that will do you some good.” 

They had locked eyes, in the heat of things, between the words that were perhaps not as playful as either one of them intended. And for a moment, Henrietta found herself caught by eyes so blue that they were almost green, as if he were meant to have been born a Vibora all along.

He chuckled, placing his hand over hers and effectively snapping her out of her trance. “Then, I shall be completely honest. What I would like most,” he leaned in, whispering, “Is nothing more than a kiss.”

“You’re insane.”

He chuckled, “A chaste one. Surely that should be fine?”

“There is no such thing as a chaste kiss, Sir Sampson. Especially not from men like you.” 

“You judge me too quickly, and far too harshly, Lady Humbert.”

“I don’t think I—”

He kissed her cheek, with such a subtle brush of his lips that it hardly felt like a kiss at all. “Shall we head back? I am sure the others are waiting.” 

But he didn’t give her a chance to reply, already guiding them back through the gardens. 

“You’re insufferable.” She felt herself in somewhat unfamiliar territory, being dragged around by the nobleman in such a way.

“That being the case, Lady Humbert,” he smiled with a look that she knew was full of too much pride, “Might I suggest a mirror?” 

The heat in her cheeks that had previously glowed with chaste warmth now burned with spite. Sampson or not, there could be no doubt. 

She’d met her match. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phrase Christa says is a saying in Spanish, which translates to "Cold hands have love for a day" the completed phrase goes on to say that those with warm hands have eternal love. Can I just say, I am SO excited for the development in the next chapter?


	6. Anemone

Sampson wasn’t quite expecting it, when his servant announced that Lady Humbert was waiting for him in the parlor downstairs. 

But he had absolutely no complaints over such a thing. 

He changed jackets, choosing something a tad more formal, before heading down to meet her, putting on his best smile. 

She had her back turned to him, when he first opened the door. Her silhouette was something that was perhaps more exciting than it should have been. Why corsets were so tight these days he hadn’t the slightest idea, but he thought it fit her rather well, considering how slender her figure was, topped off with a large hat and a pair of white gloves. 

Navy was rather becoming on her.

“Lady Sampson,” she turned as he entered, “What a surprise. Please,” he motioned, “Do sit down.” 

“There’s no need,” her hands rested on a parasol, navy to match her dress, “I won’t be long. I merely have something to return to you.” 

He couldn’t recall giving her anything to begin with. Of course, it was more than possible that Karlheinz might have sent her.

“Oh?” He drawled, “And what could that be?”

She walked over to him, before she placed a gloved hand against his cheek, pressing her lips to the opposite side. 

“Your chaste kiss,” she said easily, already reaching for her parasol, “I’ve no use for it.” 

She curtseyed politely to excuse herself, clutching at the parasol. “Good day, Sir Sampson.”

She had not yet reached the door, before Sampson grabbed her roughly by the arm, pulling her into him and meeting her lips. 

“And this one,” he practically spit out his words, glaring at her with sharp eyes, “Could you make use of something like that?” 

Her breath had long since caught in her chest, her corset unbearably tight, “Not in the slightest,” she managed on an exhale. 

“Then by all means, Lady Humbert,” his hands trailed up her neck, cupping her face and pulling her in, letting her hair catch between his fingers, “Do return it to me…” 

He kissed her again, drawing her tongue out with his own, feverishly tasting the lips which had charmed men more tactful than he.

“S-Stop, any more than this and—”

He bit, how could he not, feeling her hat bump against his head—

She pushed him away, collecting herself. “You’re vile.”

“Stay with me tonight.” 

She gasped, struggling to keep him away, “You’re truly mad—”

“Anything you desire, I assure you, it’s yours—”

“You can’t buy what I want—”

“You seem to misunderstand just how capable a man I am, my dear.” 

She pushed him away, gasping for air, more disheveled than he’d ever seen her before. “This alone should be enough,” she said, “I thought I might indulge…” she glanced at him, her usual scowl returning, “I’m afraid you’re not so skilled as I imagined you to be, Sir.”

“My dear,” he lifted her chin up, “Can you call such a thing indulgent?” He leaned in again, “A woman like you must know I’ve hardly had my fill.” 

He was slapped, in a way that caught him completely off guard, the fire in her eyes leaving him wondering if he’d perhaps struck a nerve. 

“A woman like me,” She smiled bitterly, grabbing her parasol and heading for the door. “I’ll be taking my leave.” 

“Henrietta,” he reached for her, but was met with her fangs instead.

Never before had he seen a woman of her status bare her fangs. She quickly composed herself, however, returning to her usual demeanor, as if what had just occurred had simply been an illusion in his mind. 

“I apologize for taking your time when you’re most busy, Sir Sampson. Perhaps it would be best if we ended our relations from now on.” 

She left without a word more, leaving Sampson more than just dazed, falling into the couch of his parlor. He laughed to himself, his hands shaking as he rubbed his hand over his mouth, resting on his chin to think. A woman baring her fangs. Showing such outright _anger,_ going so far as to smack him for no reason at all. 

How positively erotic. 

…

Tea with Beatrix was perhaps Henrietta’s most favorite pastime. Of course, she would have preferred it in the Evans Manor, rather than at the Sakamaki Castle, but some things simply couldn’t be helped. At the very least, the gardens were lovely this time of year. 

“It’s a shame you don’t have a brother,” Henrietta lamented, “I’m sure he would have been rather handsome.” 

“You’d take no interest in him if I did,” Beatrix replied calmly, sipping her tea. 

Henrietta raised her brow, “Oh? And why’s that?” 

Beatrix smiled behind her teacup, “I’d still be the eldest.” 

Henrietta couldn’t help but laugh at that, opening her fan to hide her face, “Perhaps I should just marry you then!” 

“What a scandal that would be.” Beatrix chastised, biting into a pastry, closing her eyes as she did so. 

It was not long before they were joined by a few nobleman, Beatrix worth enough to catch the attention of any man. Henrietta didn’t particularly mind, but it meant there were less fruit tarts to go around. 

“As expected, Henrietta,” one man came to sit beside her, leaning in far too close, “You’ve managed to capture the eyes of every man here.” 

She sat perfectly erect, sipping her tea with disdain, “Do not compliment a woman when another is right beside her.” 

The man smiled slyly, “I didn’t mean Lady Evans any harm by it, I merely mean,” he motioned with his head, “That servant boy has been eyeing you.” 

She looked at the man, smiling pleasantly, “Then it only stands to reason that you have been eyeing the servant boy.” 

Beatrix hid her laughter by biting into a pastry again, a few of the other gentleman snickering. 

“You speak with the freedom of a second daughter, that much is obvious.” The man bit sharply, Henrietta clenching her cup, clenching her jaws in order to calm herself down. 

“Come now, Kenta. You shouldn’t speak to a lady in such a way.” 

That sudden voice only irritated her further, Henrietta shooting Beatrix a nasty glare, because Sir Sampson was _not_ supposed to have been on the castle grounds today. 

He pulled up a chair, edging a space between her and Kenta. “Afternoon, Lady Humbert,” he nodded to Beatrix, “Lady Evans.” 

“Afternoon, Sir Sampson.” Beatrix returned. Henrietta said nothing. 

One of the men chuckled, “You’re hated, Sampson.” 

Sampson seemed shocked, reaching over for one of the cakes. “How regrettable. Is it true, Lady Humbert?” 

Beatrix was glaring at her, she knew, because she found this sort of thing to be a lack of decorum. Henrietta didn’t see how standing one’s ground was lack of decorum. But she spoke regardless.

"On the contrary,” she drawled, “Sir Sampson is the sort of man I'm perhaps most inclined to."

“Oh?” another man added, “And what sort is that?"

She smiled. ”Filthy rich.”

Her smile only widened when she saw Beatrix nearly choke on her tea. She didn’t bother to see Sampson’s expression, not finding it important in the least. 

The man chuckled, "How basely shallow. And said without an ounce of shame! A second daughter indeed—“

"That's hardly it," Sampson smirked, motioning his glass towards her, “I think the lady simply prefers men with large swords.”

The men cooed, one of them giving off a whistle. 

“Sir Sampson,” Beatrix chastised, “That’s hardly appro—“

"Well," Henrietta cut in, smiling demurely as she took a sip of her drink, "A sword is all a man has."

“Would you ladies care to watch a duel?” One man by the name of Delarosa began excitedly, “His skill is unmatched!” 

“And where do you come off volunteering me for—”

“Come now, Marcellus it’ll be great fun! Besides, it’ll give the ladies something to see.” 

Sampson glanced over at Henrietta, curiosity making his eyes shine. “Have you ever seen a duel, my ladies?”

Henrietta turned to Beatrix, who shook her head, answering for them, “Why, no. I don’t believe we have.”

It was a lie, Henrietta knew. Beatrix’s own father had once clashed swords against the royal guard. But watching a duel was a rather effective way to pass the time, even if it was a rather informal affair. 

Both men removed their jackets, the one who had challenged Sampson taking an opportunity to stretch. Sampson didn’t bother, either out of obtuse vanity or legitimate skill, examining his sword instead.

Henrietta could see the muscles moving beneath his dress shirt, but didn’t find it surprising, considering it was that same sort of strength that had caged her…

He pointed his sword at her, suddenly, and her heart stopped, thinking that perhaps he had the ability to read minds. “I’ll be playing in Lady Humbert’s name.” 

Chatter started between the men, nearly all of them turning to look at her, before Sampson’s voice called for their attention once more, marking the beginning of the duel.

“He seems rather smitten with you,” Beatrix praised, smiling at her friend, “Whatever is going on?”

“I’m not sure myself…” Henrietta turned to Beatrix as they began, making sure the other men were out of ear’s reach. “He kissed me.”

Beatrix eyed her with a certain amount of shock, “You don’t mean—”

Henrietta nodded, and Beatrix turned her attention back to the dueling men, placing a hand over her mouth. “Already…” 

“I want nothing to do with him.” 

“Henrietta!” Beatrix scolded, “Surely you couldn’t ask for anything more! To be married to a Sampson—”

“To be the _second_ wife—”

“But to a man like him. Surely it’s better than the first wife of some other—”

“The second wife means _nothing._ You know it as well as I—”

“Henrietta,” Beatrix began lowly, completely entranced, “A man like that, you might as well have had captured Karlheinz himself.” 

Henrietta inhaled, pursing her lips together. “How _is_ Karlheinz?” she asked, not wanting the conversation to go on any further, “Surely a proposal can’t be far off?”

Beatrix sighed, but appeased her friend nonetheless. “I’m not as lucky as you, Henrietta. He dotes on the human.” 

“I do so despise men,” Henrietta replied, watching the duel with perhaps more interest than she would have liked to admit. Sampson truly was a genius with a sword. 

She straightened again, gathering her fan and standing, “Won’t you excuse me?”

“Where are you going?”

“I haven’t decided.” Henrietta said, “Will you—”

Beatrix waved her away, “Yes, just go.” 

There were only so many places she could go within the castle that would be within her limits. The library was one, but she had no real regard for books. Still, it was far enough away to allow her room to breathe. 

She didn’t know how long she had been walking, but she didn’t remember the library being so far away. Her hat was beginning to feel heavy. Part of her considered taking it off. But heaven only knows what her hair might look like underneath. And she hadn’t the time to fix it. Not if she wanted to create as much space between herself and Sir Sampson. Because more than anything else, he was in her way. 

Sampson or not she’d still be the second wife. And second was the exact same position she’d been in her entire life. Exactly what she’d been _hearing_ her entire life. 

Such a shame it was, that beauty had gone to her and not Scarlett. That her beauty was waste. That she should accept whichever marriage as quickly as possible, so as to not become a burden. 

But even with looks like hers, there were not enough men with deep enough pockets to accept a penniless second-born. And she would be _damned_ if Sampson would steal away everything she’d ever worked for, especially when his reputation was enough to rival her own. 

Because a kiss like that, pleasant or not, that sort of thing only came from a man who—

“Lady Humbert!” 

Had the world no mercy for her? 

She refused to turn around, stepping as quickly as possible into the library and slamming the door shut. 

As expected, however, he was too fast for her, stopping the door with his foot. 

“I won in your name, My Lady.”

At this, she did look at him. “My name does not need winning. Nor does my honor need protecting. Though I am humbled by you saying so. If you don’t mind, Sir, I was looking for some quiet.”

“Are you always like this?”

“I wouldn’t know how else to be, Sir.” 

“Then a token of your affection, perhaps? You didn’t even stay long enough to—”

“That would assume I have affection to token, Sir Sampson.” 

He took a step closer, and she took a step back. He cocked his head, a smirk appearing on his lips, “Do I frighten you, My Lady?” 

She straightened, her eyes sharpening, “You know well enough without asking.” 

He scoffed, “Then, do you think me bold?”

She held her head high. “Not any more so than other men I’ve come across.”

“And how many would that be, My Lady?” 

Her face hardened. “I’ve nothing more to say to you. Good day,” she bowed, _“Sir.”_

He grabbed her by the arm again, but she slashed her hand down, freeing herself from his grip. “Twice now you place your hands upon a lady without proper permission. You dare call yourself a gentleman?” 

“Oh? Says the woman who passes the time by humiliating the help—”

“If you find it disagreeable then cease whatever it is you intend to do.” 

“I think you’d be rather disappointed if I did, Lady Humbert.” 

“There are only two possible options, Sir Sampson, as have been pointed out before. I will not sacrifice my dignity for a few wasted moments of fireless passion. Nor do I ever intend to marry a man who—”

Her words were stolen by his own lips, her breath caught in her chest just as it had before, her chin held in place by his large hand. 

“Fireless passion, you said?” 

She inhaled, glaring at him as she scanned his face. He truly was the most frustrating man she’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. “A woman like me. That’s what you said, last we met. What did you mean by it?” 

“I think you know very well.”

“Then,” she smiled, hiding behind long lashes, “It goes without saying that a woman like me doesn’t swoon for the tricks of a cheap man like you.” 

With a triumphant smirk, she bid him goodbye, pulling open the heavy wooden doors of the library. 

“Lady Humbert,” he called behind her, and despite herself, she stopped. 

“May I take that as a challenge?” 

She turned, eyeing him curiously, “You will take it as a rejection.” 

He put his hand over his chest, before bowing humbly. “I’m afraid I must refuse.” 

“You have no right—”

“I’ve entered quite the predicament, you see, after realizing something like this I simply can’t forget it.”

She pursed her lips, watching him walk closer, the library door shutting quietly behind him. “And what might that be?” She asked. 

He brushed past her, so close that his fangs grazed just the edge of her ear, “Henrietta Sampson,” he breathed, making shivers run down her spine, “Tastes far too pleasant on my tongue.” 

…

“Karlheinz, no, please—” Lisa struggled, not having been fast enough to outrun the young prince, trapping herself in her own room.

“I won’t bite yet, I’ve kept my promise this long haven’t I?” 

“Yes but,” she tried to push him off, succeeding only in falling against the bed, Karlheinz falling on her in turn.

He laughed boyishly, pressing his lips against hers, “This is exciting, isn’t it? Lisa, you’re happy aren’t you?” 

“Karlheinz,” she continued to struggle, panic rushing in her blood, “Today I don’t feel good, tomorrow—”

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised, reaching for her neck to push the fabric away—

“No!” She pushed him away with such force that the fabric was yanked, her dress disheveled and her shoulder exposed to reveal the bite mark that rested there. 

Never before had Karlheinz felt his eyes flash with red. 


	7. Rose

“I’ll kill him! I swear, I’ll kill him—”

Sampson had learned to build up quite a tolerance when it came to the Young Prince. But having the royal barge into his room just as he was about to get ready for bed—that he had no patience for. Especially after the sort of day he’d had with that woman. 

Frustration didn’t even begin to define it. 

“ _Calm_ yourself Karlehinz, who are you—”

“Richter! Of course it would be—who else—”

“Karlheinz,” Sampson sighed, trying to get a whole of the hysteric prince “What _about_ Richter—”

“He bit her!! Right on her shoulder—Sampson I swear I—”

Ah. So it had finally happened. Well, it was Richter’s fault really, if he was stupid enough to leave a mark. Lucky he did, though, because Sampson was starting to wonder if Karlheinz would _ever_ notice. 

If not then he would have had to intervene on his own. And he hated that sort of thing. 

But Karlheinz was still acting hysterical, and not even Sampson had the proper words to pull him from it, so he did the only thing he really could. 

He made to swing at the prince, but Karlheinz dodged it, blocking the next blow and pinning the swordsman on the ground. 

He’d been practicing. Which was commendable, in it’s own right, but it irked Sampson that even in such a state Karlheinz was able to pin him. 

He’d just have to train harder, from now on. 

The royal guard groaned, “Will you now calmly explain what is happening?” 

Karlheinz shook, his hands trembling over his hold on Sampson, slowly releasing him with panic in his eyes. 

“Lisa,” he mumbled, “She’s been bitten.” 

Sampson nodded, looking at the prince curiously. “Where is she now?”

Karlheinz looked up, still shaking, “The dungeons. Both of them…in the…” 

Sampson raised his brow in surprise. He hadn’t expected as much. Richter, perhaps, but he didn’t think Karlheinz would go so far as to lock up the girl as well. Which was encouraging. If this man was supposed to be their future King then he couldn’t very well remain the wide-eyed little prince everyone knew him to be. He pulled Karlheinz up, dusting the young prince off. “The fact that you’ve locked her up shows you don’t see her as a victim, do you, Karlheinz?” 

With his lips a thin line and his eyes burning with tears he nearly spat in Sampson’s face. “I love her.” 

Rolling his eyes, Sampson let out a groan, and tugged Karlheinz along, “Yes, of that I’m well aware, my lord. But I’m relieved your instincts are still in tact.” 

“I just don’t understand,” Karlheinz stumbled behind him, “After everything I—she didn’t want to be bitten.” 

Sampson turned sharply, his robes flowing behind him, “And why do you think that is, my lord? The taste of blood reveals more than a woman like her would ever want known—”

“But why Richter? I offered her everything—”

“Yes, yes,” Sampson continued, practically dragging him down the halls towards the dungeons, “Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t pick up the pieces? And here I am doing exactly—”

“Charles—”

“Don’t _Charles_ me, Young Prince. The fact that you still haven’t realized—you’re nothing more than a child.” 

Karlheinz said nothing, just stared at him stupidly, and so Sampson just threw him towards the door, telling him to open it. 

“Perhaps we can have Richter explain things, mmm?” 

As they made their way down the stairs the prisoners came into view, Lisa curled up on herself against the wall, and Richter leaning against the bars that separated them. 

“Brother,” he smiled, “Have you come to let us out now—”

The scrape of metal sent Richter back, Sampson’s sword nearly coming into contact with the hands holding the bars. 

“Start talking, Richter. I despise losing sleep, you know.” 

Richter grinned, “Why don’t you, Marcellus? Since you think you have it all figured out.” 

“My speculations have nothing over the truth.”

“Still, you could have spared this tragedy.” 

“Rich,” Sampson smirked, “Coming from the one who caused it.” 

Richter’s expression dropped, turning to face Karlheinz, “You know how I am, Karlheinz. Now hurry up and let me out. I did you a favor. That girl is nothing but a whore—”

“A whore—” the bars were slammed against, Lisa getting up in the other cell, “Richter, what are you—”

Sampson laughed, a rather hearty chuckle at that, staring amusedly at the former prostitute. “What did he promise you? The throne? Karlheinz did the same. And neither you or Richter seem like the type to…” his eyes widened, upon seeing the expression of the prisoners. “Curse the devil…” he gasped under his breath, before Karlheinz came up to him, urging him to explain. 

Sampson looked at Karlheinz, before looking at Richter and Lisa once more. “I don’t believe it,” he said, “Don’t tell me you’re naive enough to be in _love—_ ”

“And what of it!” Lisa bit back, gripping at the bars, “Richter has every right to be King! If Karlheinz was stupid enough to fall for something like this then he—”

“Lisa…” Karlheinz looked at her with the eyes of a wounded buck. 

Sampson let out an irritated sigh. “I hate women. Why are you all so bloody insane—”

Richter chuckled, “Says the one chasing Humbert’s skirt—”

“By oath, Richter, I cannot kill you,” Sampson pointed his sword through the bars, “But don’t _fucking_ tempt me.” 

“Oh, ho~ What would mommy dearest say if you did?” 

“Enough.” Karlheinz’s voice was quiet, yet commanding. 

Sampson glanced over his shoulder, “My Lord?” 

Karlheinz shook his head, hands trembling like before, “Just…” He looked up, locking eyes with Lisa, struggling to hold onto a last bit of hope. “Did none of it mean anything?” 

She pursed her lips and held her gaze, but failed to reply. 

“Send her back.” He whispered.

“My Lord—”

“Do as you see fit,” he told Sampson with a wave of his hand, already making his way up the stairs, “Just don’t,” he held onto the railing for support, voice cracking, “Don’t kill them.” 

“As generous as always, Your Highness!” Richter called out, snickering to himself. 

Sampson waited until he’d heard the door close, before sheathing his sword back by his side. “You think you’re rather amusing, don’t you Richter?” 

“More so than yourself, Marcellus.” 

Sampson grinned. “Well,” he began, “As I said before, because you’re a Sakamaki I can’t touch you.” He took the keys off their hook, swaying them playfully, “But the girl, I can do anything to.” 

“And what does that have to do with me?” 

Sampson clicked his tongue, opening Lisa’s cell, reveling in the small tinge of fear that lightly coated her scent. 

“You know as well as I,” Sampson said, grabbing her by the neck and pushing her to the ground, carefully watching Richter’s reaction as he did so, “That this little human…” he palmed his sword, pulling it out in a single movement and—

“Don’t!” Richter lunged forward, stopped by the chains. 

Sampson rang a tongue over his fangs as a smile claimed his face. “Oh, how beautifully precious. Once more you prove yourself the weaker brother. Developing feelings over the one you intended to manipulate.” 

“He’d never do that,” Lisa challenged, “He loves me—”

“He loves himself,” Sampson corrected, staring at Richter, “He’ll save his own skin over yours. What a pitiful man to fall for—”

“Sampson if you touch her I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing, Richter. Because you know as well as I that you are nothing but a shadow.” 

“He’s more than that!” Lisa fought, but Sampson pushed her face back against the ground.

“Play nicely, my dear. I’d hate to kill you.” 

A titter of a laugh pushed passed her lips onto the ground, her face hidden by her arms. When she lifted her head, it was to reveal the scratches on her cheeks caused by the stone. “You can’t kill me,” she lilted, “Karlheinz’s orders.” 

Sampson sheathed his sword in a bored fashion. “The pride of the royal guard,” he began, almost mechanically, “Above all else, is the safety and well being of the royal family.” 

She looked him up and down, pursing her lips. 

He knelt down before her, stroking her hair almost affectionately, “I have a contract binding me to the Sakamakis. One I’ve read very carefully,” she smacked his hand away, but he paid it no mind, simply rubbed his fingers together with a smirk on his lips, “Do you know what it says?”

Her eyes darted across his face. 

“Should the King or his heirs find themselves in a delusional state of mind, the royal guard must act accordingly to protect the bloodline. Now my dear,” he sighed, pushing against his knees to pick himself up, “I’m afraid your lover here has done quite a number on the future King. And seeing as I can’t lay a hand upon Richter myself, well…” his smirk only grew, and Lisa shot a panicked look at Richter, who watched listlessly behind the bars. 

“Shall I open the lock? He won’t make any effort to save you, I can assure you as much.” 

“You’re lying!” She spat, “Richter—!”

Sampson was already at his cell, keys jangling from the way they unlocked the heavy metal. “Watch closely,” he instructed the royal, “This is to prove your own cowardice.” 

Richter swallowed, and ignored Lisa’s pleas, watching silently from the now-opened cell as Sampson approached Lisa once again. 

“I’m not usually so brutal, I assure you,” he began, already taking off his belt, setting his sword down carefully beside him, “Your death will be swift, that much I can promise.”

“Get away from me!” The chains rattled, as Lisa panicked, slashing her body back and forth to avoid his touch. 

“The problem is,” Sampson continued unabashedly, unbuttoning his pants next, as though she hadn’t spoken at all, “I’ve run into a bit of trouble with a woman myself. A rather insufferable one, you see. I’m afraid I’m left rather pent up after our exchanges.”

“Richter!” She screamed, “Richter do something!” 

Sampson sighed, “I said it, didn’t I? The man is a coward. Even if he did attempt to challenge me he’d be left incapacitated.” 

“They’d hang you!” She reeled, “They’d hang you if you put your hands on a royal—”

He tsked, wagging his finger at her, “You don’t seem to understand how vampires work at all, my dear,” he clicked his tongue, “A pity. Expected, considering you’re nothing but a lowly human. But still…a pity.” ” 

The chains rattled again, Lisa bunching herself up as small as she possibly could, trying to create as much distance between herself and the royal guard. But by now, Sampson had lost his patience, grabbing her by the throat and splaying her flat on the ground. 

“You’re a whore, aren’t you?” He spat in a voice so chilling she froze beneath him, left paralyzed by the sharp stare of his blue eyes. When she failed to answer, Sampson gave a laugh that was perhaps more terrifying than anything he’d done so far. 

“Surely you know,” he drawled, brushing his tongue over his fangs, “The more you struggle,” his voice dropped, cold breath upon her ear, “The more it will hurt.” 

…

Karlheinz still didn’t understand. But he knew if he stayed in that dungeon any longer that he might have collapsed. And that was not something he wanted Lisa to see. 

Never before had he felt such a horrible ache in his chest. It was a sharper sting than silver, and more wretched than thirst. 

And yet…

Hadn’t they all said so? That Lisa was no good. That she would never…

But for it to have been Richter. His own _brother._

By one miracle or another he made it to his room. Collapsing onto his bed, he felt as if his robes were tangling his limbs in a net. 

If Richter wanted a crown so badly then Karlheinz would give it. Nothing was worth this kind of pain. 

Not even a kingdom. 

His door opened, and he assumed it to be Sampson, but it was none other than the maid he’d helped before. 

“My lord!” she bowed humbly in surprise, lowering her head and staying by the door, “Forgive me I was instructed—before you were to go to bed—I assumed your chambers were empty—”

Karlheinz held up his hand. It seemed as though this was the only thing he would ever amount to. Commoners sputtering in his presence. “The room will survive for a day. You’re dismissed.” 

She kept her head down as she left, shutting the door quietly behind her, and once again leaving Karlheinz to himself. 

He sighed, resting his head against the pillow, before reaching under it and pulling out the book in which he’d preserved her flower, crushing the petals between his fingers. 

He’d never given it much thought, before. But it was sort of incredible. 

How hopelessly fragile something could truly be. 


	8. Buttercup

“It’s about time you get home—”

“I had things to take care of—”

“There’s someone here to see you—”

“Send them away—”

“I don’t think you want me to do that—”

“Amelia, for the love of—”

“Are you courting Lady Humbert?” 

Sampson stared down at his wife, his lack of sleep suddenly lifted. He scoffed, “Don’t tell me she’s sent a challenger?” 

“Nothing like that,” Amelia began, crossing her arms, “Though I would appreciate a notification of you taking on a second wife.” 

“I do not need to notify you of anything.”

“I’m only saying I would appreciate the sentiment.”

“And _I_ would appreciate you not bringing home the scents of random men. But we can’t all have what we want, can we darling?” 

Amelia pursed her lips, “If my husband paid attention to his wife’s needs then perhaps such a thing wouldn’t—”

He grabbed her by the neck, his eyes far from kind. 

Amelia only laughed, “You accuse me, when you come home smelling like a human—”

He let her go and she stumbled, slightly hitting the wall, which she used to regain her balance. “ _Fine,”_ she spat, “I’ll send them away.” 

“Do it quickly.” 

Amelia watched as he climbed up the stairs, before turning back to the parlor, where Lady Evans was waiting. 

“I apologize. My husband is being most unreasonable.” 

“Quite the opposite,” Beatrix eased, “It is I who have become a burden so early into the night.”

“Not at all,” Amelia smiled amicably, “It seems work was difficult. I swear that man has manners like an ape.”

Beatrix laughed, “Not at all. I understand, and I apologize for imposing.”

“You are always welcome here. I will let Marcellus know you stopped by.”

She nodded, smiling, “I do hope you’ll come, regardless.”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Beatrix.”

“I can see myself out.” 

“No please,” Amelia smiled, “Allow me.”

* * *

 

News of what had occurred did not go without its share of gossip. Which was rather fortunate, because if the truth had been revealed instead it would have been quite a mess to clean up. 

It was the only thing anyone seemed to be talking about, at Beatrix’s gathering. It was a rather small affair, compared to the grandiose balls her father enjoyed giving, but regardless, the young prince was absent. 

“Perhaps he’s in mourning,” Henrietta drawled, bringing a champagne glass to her lips. 

“Do not act so vulgar.” 

“He’ll arrive in time,” Henrietta encouraged, “You invited him, after all.” 

Beatrix folded her hands over her skirt, “I’m afraid that does not mean very much at all.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“The King. He’s shown favor to Cordelia.” 

Henrietta scoffed, “As if you’d lose the throne to that child.” 

“But she’s the Demon King’s—”

“She’s a brat. For once in your life use your beauty to your advantage.” 

Beatrix said nothing, merely sighed and looked away, saying something about how Henrietta could never understand. 

But she _did_ understand. Far too well. She didn’t have the chance to say anything, though, because The Sampson's arrived, just then, demanding the greetings of the hostess. 

“So glad you could make it, Marcellus, Amelia.” Beatrix greeted them both amicably. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Amelia extended her hand towards Henrietta, “Amelia Sampson.” 

Henrietta looked her up and down, before nodding her head humbly, tipping the champagne glass in her direction, “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” 

“Lady Humbert,” Sampson began, “How lovely to see you again.” 

“How I wish I could say the same,” she smiled pleasantly, before walking away. It did not come without a scolding from Beatrix, but Henrietta was already halfway into the crowd. 

For something described as a _small gathering,_ there were still enough people to fill the entirety of the Evan’s ballroom.

She simply couldn’t be bothered. 

With the arrival of Sampson she suddenly felt the need to disappear from the party entirely. This man was ruining every single one of her chances to secure a proper husband. Men she had previously wrapped around her finger now hesitated to indulge her. 

She’d been marked. 

Like cattle. 

She retreated further into the house, having visited enough times to be comfortable, and, climbing up the various staircases, made it out to the veranda which overlooked the Evan’s estate. 

But she was not alone. 

Karlheinz had always been the sort of man she disliked the most. Dull, with no backbone. How long had he been here? No one had announced his arrival. It was driving Beatrix mad with the worry. He truly was a man with no concern for anyone but himself. Nothing but a boy. 

Yet, even still, he was the future king. 

“My lord,” she bowed her head humbly, “Forgive me, I was merely looking to get some air.” 

“It’s a lovely view,” he said somberly, “I don’t think I will ever tire of it.” 

“My lord,” she said, “If I may. If you speak to no one else, then at least to Lady Evans. She fears she’s offended you.” 

He glanced over at her, as though finally realizing who he was talking to. “Oh, Lady Humbert…” his gaze fell back onto the gardens, “No…no I am not offended.” 

“She worries her timing was insensitive. But the fate of…nothing was known, before the party was arranged.”

“Yes, naturally…no one could have imagined…”

She pursed her lips to keep from saying anything that might get her exiled.“My lord, if I could be so bold—”

“Henrietta!” The french doors burst open, Beatrix coming in with the look of a mother scolding her children. “I’ve been looking everywhere! You must go apologize, you conducted yourself in—” 

She stopped, upon seeing Karlheinz, her head dropping in a low bow, “Your Grace. Forgive me for speaking in such a way in your presence.” 

“Lady Evans,” Karlheinz gave a shadow of a smile, shaking his head, “No, it is my own fault. I should have announced my arrival.” 

“No, I—it was very inconsiderate of me, to have a ball—”

“The blame could never be put on you, Lady Evans.” 

Henrietta watched silently as Beatrix and Karlheinz engaged in what seemed to be a battle of apologies. While she didn’t care much for it, she supposed Beatrix deserved at least that much. So she slipped through the doors of the veranda, closing them shut as softly as she could manage. The key was always left in the door, and so she turned it, locking the pair outside. 

She pulled the key out slowly, taking a glance around and then setting it by one of the tables that rested beside the french doors. The very least she could do was buy her friend some time alone with the young prince. 

“How very deceptive of you, Lady Humbert.” 

She gasped to hold in her scream. If nothing else because surely Beatrix and Karlheinz would go to see what the matter was. 

“You—!”

He held up his hands defensively, before silently pressing a single gloved finger to his lips. “I shan’t disturb them.” 

She pursed her lips, looking upon him with disdain, before pushing past him. 

“Lady Humbert—”

“I have nothing to say to you.” 

“How cold. I was merely going to ask how you found the Young Lord to be. I’ve been quite worried about his health.” 

Henrietta paused for a moment, looking him up and down. “He is as he has always been.” She began, hesitantly. 

He hummed at that, “Wide eyed and hopeful?” 

“Weak.” She spat. 

Sampson couldn’t help but chuckle at that, grin growing wide on his face. “Tell me, Henrietta. Of all the gentleman you’ve charmed, why not Karlheinz? Surely, you saw how enamored he was. It can’t be out of loyalty to Beatrix alone.”

Though they were no longer in front of the doors, from where Henrietta stood she could still see Beatrix and Karlheinz conversing out on the patio. 

“The human girl…” she began, still looking at the young prince, “Karlheinz wouldn’t have killed her. It had to have been you.”She slowly moved her gaze over to Charles, accusation resting on her tongue. 

He smiled in a way that was more genuine than Henrietta would have liked. “You truly infuriate me beyond all reason.” 

She merely shrugged, continuing on down the hall, “Then leave me in peace.” 

“I wish to kiss you again,” he called after her, “If the lady would permit.” 

She clenched her jaw, biting back the need to growl, “If you wish only to bed me, Sir Sampson then I’m afraid you’ll have to marry me.” 

He was right beside her, in a way that was almost frightening, grabbing her by the arm. “Then marry me.” 

She pulled away, eyes wide and gasp threatening to part her lips, “You’re truly mad!” 

He grabbed her by the arm again, and she brought up her other hand to try and stop him, but he simply grabbed that one too, pulling him to her while she turned her face away to evade a kiss. 

“Sir Sampson, please—”

“I can’t understand you—”

“Please,” her voice trembled, her face still turned away, “When we’re like this—when I’m with you—“ slowly, she looked up, tears lining her eyes, “I won’t maintain my purity.” 

Something snapped in him, feeling the sudden need to bite the woman on the neck, to draw out the fear that hid behind her eyes. But he held himself, bringing his hands up to her face. “Henrietta—”

A cackle rose from her throat as she pulled away, since he now longer had a solid hold on her, Henrietta reaching into the fold of her dress to pull out her fan. “Did you believe me? Perhaps you’re more of a fool than Karlheinz.” 

Sampson narrowed his eyes, damn near growling. 

“How boring,” she sighed, slowly waving her fan in lament, “I was hoping for something more exciting from you, Sir Sampson.” 

In a moment she was up against the wall, crushed beneath his weight, her wrists on either side of her face. 

“Don’t underestimate a man like me, _Lady Humbert.”_

“Then do not test a lady like me, _Sir Sampson.”_

“If I took you now I wonder what you’d do,” a crazed smile lined his lips, “No one would want you. Not even as a second wife. Then what would happen, Henrietta?” 

“As if I would allow you to rob me of everything. People would come. Do you think I wouldn’t scream?” 

“On the contrary my dear,” he released her wrist so that he could grab her chin, forcing her face to his, “I’d make quite sure that you do.” 

She raised her hand to hit him again, but he caught her by the arm, leaning in to kiss her regardless, and with her fan still resting in her palm she flicked her wrist, allowing the silk to spiral down, blocking his face. 

“I am still a lady of dignity.”

He seemed shocked, at least, but with how quickly he recovered one wouldn’t know he faltered to begin with. “Then I will strip you of it.” 

“Denied.”

He scoffed, “Denied?” 

“Go back to your wife.”

“She’s right here, before my very eyes. If she were only to remove the fan, so that I could gaze upon her beautiful face.”

At this, Henrietta couldn’t help but laugh, in a way so genuine, that she dropped her fan, and relaxed in his hold. Sampson eyed her curiously. Henrietta merely smiled at him, motioning to the ground with her eyes.

“Won’t you pick that up for me? You are a gentleman, are you not?” 

Hesitating slightly, he looked at her, before collecting himself, resting on one knee while he offered it to her. 

“Your fan, My Lady.” 

She smiled, taking it from him, commenting on the fact that the floor suited him. 

He scoffed, slowly rising to his feet once more. 

“You are charming,” she admitted, rolling the fan over in her hands, “I can see why so many ladies swoon at your feet.” 

He smirked, “Is that your declaration of love, my lady?” 

Henrietta scoffed with a shake of her head, as she began heading down the hall once more. She allowed him to fall into step with her. “This has all been very amusing,” she looked at him while she talked, “But it goes without saying that we don't have any genuine interest in each other.” 

He hummed, “Perhaps that is precisely what makes it amusing.” 

“I am asking you to stop.” 

“And I am telling you no.” 

“Why are you so stubborn?” 

“Because I am not as insincere as you wish me to be, Lady Humbert.” 

She sighed, revealing how tired she was, “I will never be your wife. Please stop wasting our time.” 

“Very well.” He stopped abruptly, causing her to halt her steps as well. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“If you wish for it, then I will humbly withdraw myself from the race to your heart.” He gave a formal bow, with his hand over his chest, his other arm spreading out, parallel to the floor. 

Henrietta stood frozen, slightly incredulous. “As simple as that?”

He glanced up from his pose, “As simple as that.” 

She hummed, still not believing him, but accepting it nonetheless.“If that’s so then do stop telling others I’m being courted by you. I’m becoming so dreadfully lonely without my men to comfort me.” 

“Naturally.”

She clicked her tongue; he was mocking her again. Her nose scrunched up in distaste. “Will you do all I ask of you?” 

“That and more,” he said it so sweetly she almost gagged, “There are few things that surpass my limitations.” 

She smiled, “Kill your wife. And then I will marry you.” 

He looked upon her with kind eyes. “Are you asking me in earnest?” 

“Sir Sampson!” She cracked, shaking her fan at him, “I refuse to believe that you are so far gone!”

He leaned into her, “Please, call me Charles.” 

“Absolutely _not_ —”

“Will you call for me, my lady?” He reached for her hand, pressing the back of her palm to his lips.

“Enough!” She yanked her hand away, “Stay away from me! I have no interest in conversing with the demented!” 

“How cruel.” 

“ _You_ are the only cruel one, torturing me in such a way—”

“When will you admit that you are flattered—”

“You are confusing flattery with irritation.” 

He chuckled, and it was enough for her features to relax slightly. “You’re correct, Lady Humbert,” he put his hands in his pockets, smiling as he turned to her, “This is, in fact, very amusing.” 

She eyed him suspiciously, “…I’m glad you agree.” 

“My name is Charles Marcellus Sampson. I was born to a Vibora mother and a Vampire father.” He said suddenly, looking at her in a way that made her breath catch in her corset. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I am reintroducing myself, my lady. In hopes of beginning a new friendship.” 

“I have no interest in being your friend.” 

“Oh? You should have said so, Lady Humbert. There are quite a few empty rooms we could have taken advantage of.” He motioned around the hall, as if to prove his point.

“Do not say such things while in the Evan’s household!” She snapped coldly. 

He gave a dry chuckle, cocking his head at her, “Will you not introduce yourself?” 

She opened her mouth to speak but then quickly shut it. Taking in a large inhale, she collected herself. “We should return to the party, Sir Sampson. I’m sure your wife is looking for you.” 

She picked up her pace so that he couldn’t say anything more, picking up her skirt as she flitted down the staircase, wanting nothing more than to get away. 

“You’ll fall,” he warned from the top, “If you do not slow down.” 

“Perhaps,” she called, “But then I’d reach the bottom all the faster.” Flashing a smile of fangs, she disappeared around the base of the stairs, returning to the main ballroom. 

The crowd was a warm welcome, Henrietta feeling as though she could finally _breathe_ , trying to peer through and see if there was anyone she recognized. But something caught in her bracelet, a small screech accompanying the incident. 

Purple locks were trapped under the golden charms of Henrietta’s wrist. She scowled, tugging at the back of the child’s corset and pulling her in. Cordelia screeched again. 

“Let me go!” 

“It’s your unkept mane that has damaged my jewelry, you brat.” 

“It hurts!” 

“Stay still,” Henrietta, spat, trying to free herself from the long hair, “Or perhaps we’ll simply cut it—”

“You can’t! I’m the—”

“Yes, yes, little one, I know who your father is.” 

“I’m _not_ little. I’m the future Queen.” 

Henrietta snorted at that, finally freeing her wrist and shaking it in satisfaction. “The day you become Queen is the day I’ll become a Sampson.” 

Cordelia made a face, scowling at the older woman, “What are you talking about?” 

Henrietta sneered, turning, “It’s none of your concern,” she waved her away, “Do something about that disgusting hair of yours.” 

She continued on through the crowd, feeling more than just exhausted. Finding a free seat on one of the many couches lining the room, she collapsed, letting out a long sigh. Of all the people to meet at a party, it had to be Sir Sampson and _that_ child. She didn’t know how much more of this she could endure. Carefully looking over the charms of her golden bracelet, she made sure nothing had come loose. She pulled off a few of the stray purple hairs that were still caught between the intricate chains. 

There was a large ruffling of skirts, someone joining her on the couch. 

“Henrietta, isn’t that right?” 

She made to stand.

“Wait,” Amelia reached out for her, “Please stay.” 

“I’m—”

“I want us to get along,” Amelia explained, “Should Marcellus decide—”

“Fear not Amelia,” Henrietta drawled, “I won’t be taking your precious husband from you.”

“I have no such concerns. If anything I’d be glad. He’s never home. It’s quite lonely in such a large house.” 

Henrietta smiled, “Perhaps you should acquire a cat.” 

Amelia said nothing, her expression blank. “I see why he’s so drawn to you.” 

“Do not speak to me as if you know him or myself. I’ve refused your insolent husband enough times to lose track, and my _humblest apologies,_ but I have no interest in befriending a woman who’s loyalties do not rest with those of her husband. You first borns have everything handed to you on a silver platter and then cry because it is not gold.”

Henrietta got up, refuse to say or listen to anything else. She’d apologize to Beatrix later, and gather her belongings the next night. For now, she had to leave. Because, she knew, staying at this party any longer would surely render her insane.


	9. Lilacs

_A few months later…_

Karlheinz sat in a bit of a daze, flipping aimlessly through the stacks of books that were piled upon his desk. 

Sampson was on the opposite end of the room, taking a bite of an apple, flipping through a book of his own. 

Suddenly, Karlheinz closed his book, looking directly at Sampson, upon which the swordsman raised his brow, silently giving the go-ahead to speak. 

“Beatrix is a rather comely woman.” Karlheinz said, stating the fact. 

Sampson took a conscious bite of his apple, “I don’t think there’s a man who’d deny it.” 

“She doesn’t smile much,” Karlheinz spoke as though he were still thinking it through, “Why do you think that is?” 

“I couldn’t say, My Lord,” Sampson answered, “But it makes it all the more beautiful when she does.” 

“Yes,” Karlheinz nodded, pen held absently between his fingers, “Yes there’s—a bit of a glow to her when she does, don’t you think?” 

“I’m sure you’re not the only one who thinks as such.” 

“We’ve just received some tea from Japan. Sampson, you don’t think—perhaps she’d care for some?” 

Sampson couldn’t help the grin that spread his lips, unable to help but tease, “What a grand idea, my lord. I’m sure a gathering would be great for everyone’s spirits.” 

“Ah,” Karlheinz faltered, trying to find a way out, “Well, yes, gatherings are always good for such things…” he struggled, searching for the proper words. 

“Karlheinz,” Sampson smirked, sitting on the edge of the desk and taking another bite of the apple, “Surely you didn’t mean to invite the lady unattended? What a scandal that might cause—”

“No!” Karlheinz was quick to refute it, “Never anything like that—I wouldn’t—” he paused for a moment, “What of you and Henrietta? I could invite her as well!” 

Sampson scoffed, tossing the apple core away, “The wind may blow at the mountain but the mountain will not move. Or so the saying goes.” 

Even Karlheinz chuckled at that, “Are you sure you’re not both the wind?” 

Sampson raised a brow, “How so?”

“Because you both cause such a whirlwind when you’re together. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so amusing.” 

“Amusing for us both though I’m afraid it also makes me incredibly frustrated.” 

Karlheinz continued to chuckle, “Very well, then. It’s settled. I shall invite them both for tea.” 

“Am I to be in attendance as well?” 

“Of course!” Karlheinz said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Should you ever hope to have her as your wife then you must prove to her how devoted you are, Charles!” 

A dry laugh parted Sampson’s lips, “Devotion is hardly enough for a woman like her.” 

Karlheinz tapped his stationary with his pen, grinning, “I shall invite her. Take advantage of my good will.” 

“Much obliged, my lord,” Sampson grinned again, “I must say I’m rather impressed.”

“Oh?” Karlheinz said absently, already beginning on his letter. 

“You seem to have forgotten the human girl rather easily.” 

His pen stopped mid-word, his eyes diverting off the page, before returning back. Karlheinz shook his head, “I will not forgive betrayal. And what that woman did was betrayal.” 

“And Richter?” Sampson leered, “What of him?” 

“Richter is my brother,” Karlheinz said strictly, “That is the only thing that spared him.” 

“Brothers betray each other every day—”

“I will not turn my back on blood,” Karlheinz looked up, eyes cutting right through Sampson, “In the end it’s all one has.” 

A respectful nod was all Sampson said in response. Inwardly, he grinned to himself. Perhaps the little prince was learning to grow up after all. 

…

Henrietta was cackling, scuttling around the parlor to keep the letter out of Beatrix’s reach, “… _the_ ** _greatest_** _of honors, if a lady as_ ** _beautiful_** _as you could join me for tea_ —I’m sure he’d like to drink a lot more than tea—ha! Beatrix! Perhaps you could offer him your blood—“

“Henrietta!” Beatrix snapped, “You should know better than to take what isn’t yours—”

“But it’s addressed to me as well, is it not?” She cackled again, dodging Beatrix’s attempt to grab her, pulling a chair out in an attempt to deter her, “ _My family has recently received a shipment from the human land of Japan,_ ” she continued, reading off the letter, “ _I_ ** _do_** _so wish to see Japan one day. Perhaps we could travel there together—_ ” she scoffed, bursting into laughter all over again, “Oh this is so _painfully_ Karlheinz—”

“Henrietta—!”

“ _And,_ ” Henrietta was panting, dodging furniture and trying to put as many in Beatrix’s path as possible, “ _Should it please the Lady Humbert, her presence has been requested as well_ —I wonder by _who—_ “ she gagged, making a face, “ _She might be pleased to know_ —oh do _tell me_ Lord Karlheinz, what might please me— _that Sir Sampson finds her company most_ —“ she stopped, choking on her own tongue, completely unable to finish the last lines out loud, “That bastard!!” 

At last, Beatrix got hold of the letter, skimming it quickly up until the very last few lines, where Karlheinz’s elegant penmanship was replaced with something that was equally flamboyant, but so obviously not belonging to that of the young lord. 

“Oh my,” Beatrix inhaled, “That’s rather…explicit—”

“Burn it,” Henrietta demanded, snatching the letter, “How dare he interfere with another’s letter—”

“Henrietta,” Beatrix compelled her to sit down, “Don’t you think it’s time you finally accept his courtship? You’d never have to worry about anything ever again—”

“I will _not_ become a second wife Beatrix! How many times must I tell you? Even if that weren’t the case I’d never marry him! That man is so infuriating I can’t stand even the sight of him—”

“But you do,” Beatrix said quietly, knowingly. “In fact I’d say you two get along rather well—“

“Don’t insult me! That man—” she clenched her fist, before sighing, sinking down onto the couch next to Beatrix. She swallowed thickly, her voice becoming soft, “You know I can’t.” 

“Henrietta…”

“Don’t,” she shook her head, “You’re my only friend, and perhaps the only person in this pitiful spot of hell that I care for, but you won’t ever understand someone like me, Beatrix. Even now, look at you,” she motioned at the letter, “Off to become Queen the of everything.” 

Beatrix stayed silent, looking at her friend with downcast eyes. 

“I don’t need to be pitied,” Henrietta said indignantly. 

“No, I wouldn’t—”

“I will find my husband,” Henrietta said suddenly, with a large smile on her face, taking Beatrix’s hands into her own, “I will be the first wife, and we’ll have a beautiful baby boy. And once you have your daughter with Karlheinz, they shall marry, and we’ll finally be family. If it’s not my right by birth then I will make it my right through marriage." 

“That, I have no doubts of,” Beatrix showed off an elegant smile, squeezing her friend’s hands, “But what of our invitation? If you don’t go then—“

“I’ll go. Nothing could keep me from it,” she took the letter again, glancing it over, “Perhaps I’ll have my fun with this.”

“Henrietta—“

“I’ll be on my best behavior Beatrix, I promise you. But perhaps I can use Sir Sampson’s infatuation to my advantage.” 

“Oh?” 

A sly smile spread across Henrietta’s lips, “I believe the term is—friends in high places?”

* * *

 

Afternoon tea was served on one of the private balconies of Sakamaki castle that overlooked the gardens down below. 

“Charles was telling me of Japan. Apparently the cherry blossoms are in bloom.” 

“That sounds lovely,” Beatrix said politely, bringing the teacup up to her lips. 

“I was telling Charles we could all make a trip of it one day. I’ve heard so many stories I’d quite like to visit one day. Have you ever been, Beatrix?” 

“I’m afraid I’ve only ever been to England, as it’s where my father conducts most of his business.” 

“Do you not sell to Japan?” 

“From what I understand the Japanese aren’t so receptive to outside influence,” Beatrix told him. 

“I see. How curious,” Karlheinz continued on, “I always thought tea to be a rather universal product.” 

“Each leaf is unique,” Beatrix explained humbly, “And each more temperamental than the next. Anything can cause the slightest of change, from the soil in which they’re grown, to the water in which they’re boiled.” 

“How absolutely fascinating…”

Henrietta listened to Karlheinz and Beatrix go on and on about the most boring of things, silently eating some cakes, and trying to make sure Sampson kept his feet to himself. 

The gentleman was trying to lift her skirt under the table. Not that she was going to say anything. Beatrix was finally getting to talk to Karlheinz on a more intimate level, and with the young prince’s head no longer wrapped around some heathen human spawn, there was finally room for Beatrix. And Henrietta wouldn’t be the one to ruin it. 

She understood the scarcity of opportunity all too well. 

Conversation seemed to pick up between the two of them, Henrietta and Sampson chipping in every so often, but it became quite clear that Beatrix and Karlheinz had quickly entered their own little world. 

It became especially obvious, when the two decided to head down into the gardens, so that theycould admire the sunrise from there.

“Henrietta, Sampson? Won’t you join us?” Karlheinz asked, practically beaming, grinning from ear to ear as he helped Beatrix stand.

Both Sampson and Henrietta shared a glance, upon which Henrietta sighed first. “My legs are so _dreadfully_ tired. And these strawberries are delicious. I think I’d much rather stay here.” 

“Very well,” Karlheinz nodded, “Sampson, then?” 

“I don’t think it’d suit well to leave the lady all alone like this. Besides, we’ll have a better view of the sunrise from here.” 

Neither Beatrix nor Karlheinz seemed to argue it, the two of them excusing themselves from the balcony, and leaving Henrietta to face Sampson alone. 

Sampson took a single sip of sparkling water, before choosing to speak. 

“Will you be having the chicken or the fish?”

She scrunched up her features, “I beg your pardon?” 

“For their wedding. Chicken or fish?” 

She rolled her eyes, “You seem rather confident in it.” 

“Beatrix is a beautiful woman,” Sampson reasoned, “He’d be a fool to let her go.” 

“Because beauty is all that matters in a woman,” Henrietta clarified. “But I will agree. He’s a fool if he lets her go.”

“Believe me,” Sampson sighed, “He has no intention to. Do you have any idea how long it took him to write the letter inviting you here?” 

Henrietta laughed, taking a sip of her drink, “The letter which you so gracefully commandeered?” 

“Were you impressed with my vocabulary?” 

“Repulsed, actually—”

“I thought you’d might appreciate it, after Karlheinz’s—”

“Endless strings of poetic nonsense?” She rolled her eyes, “What was it? _An honor so humbly bestowed upon me_ —”

“That was my influence, I will admit.” Sampson grinned, filling up his glass, “A little flair never hurts." 

“Ah,” Henrietta hummed, allowing him to fill up her glass, “So you’re a poet now as well.” 

“A jack of all trades,” he said. 

“Mmm,” she agreed, “But master of none, I’m afraid.” 

A sly smile spread across his face. “Can we not have a simple conversation between us?” 

“Are we not conversing at this very moment?” Henrietta countered. 

Sampson chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, the sound a low, vibrating rumble in his throat that seemed to catch Henrietta’s attention. If he weren’t already married, she would have accepted his proposition in a heartbeat. The only name that rung above Sampson was Sakamaki. 

But fate was not so kind.

“Tell me something about yourself, Henrietta.” He said suddenly, not so much as a suggestion, but rather in a telling fashion, the way men with power were want to do. 

She hummed, thinking, before folding her hands over themselves, leaning in flirtatiously across the table, “Whatever would you like to know, Sir Sampson?” 

He seemed to think about that for a moment, bringing a hand up to his chin, “Do you prefer cats, or dogs?” 

“Dogs,” she responded, almost on reflex. 

Sampson lifted a brow in surprise, leaning in with genuine interest, “I would have assumed cats. I’d have bet good money on that.” 

She rolled her eyes, “You’d have lost money. Men like you always think they understand everything.”

“Then,” he motioned with his hands, “Enlighten me.”

Henreitta sighed, not really wanting to talk, but knowing there would be no other way to pass the time, until Beatrix returned with Karlheinz.

“Cats are their own creatures. You can’t get them to do anything. A dog, at the very least, is obedient and loyal.” 

Sampson nodded, somewhat slowly, resting his chin in his palms. “Fascinating. Loyalty truly is everything.” 

“It’s all anyone has,” Henrietta corrected, “Beyond that there is nothing.” 

“Such heavy words,” he mused. 

“Forgive me for weighing down our conversation,” she smiled, her tone playful, in a way that was as fake as the gems the peasantry wore around their necks. 

“Do you not laugh?” Sampson asked, with as much curiosity as he’d given the first question.

“Quite often,” she said truthfully, “Mostly at the incompetence of servants.” 

“You berate the help?” 

“Only when they irritate me.” 

“And,” Sampson continued, “Are you irritated often?” 

“I’m irritated now.” 

“I see,” Sampson nodded seriously, taking a strawberry, and popping the entire thing into his mouth, “Will you laugh at me then?” 

She shrugged, “You’ve done nothing to provide me with amusement.” 

“Is that you giving me permission to try and amuse you?” He asked in earnest.

She waved her hand tiredly, giving another slight shrug of her shoulder, “Do as you will.” 

“Well then,” Sampson grinned, “In that case, I do have a story I think you’ll find amusing. There was a formal gathering here the other day. Viboras, Demons and the like. My own mother as well of course—”

“I’m already so dreadfully bored,” Henrietta sighed—

“Cordelia was there too. She made quite the scene.” 

Henrietta made a disapproving sound, rolling her eyes and taking a bite of pastry, “That brat is always causing a scene—”

“The king had her removed.” Sampson smirked, eyeing her to watch her reaction. 

Henrietta did perk up at the thought, turning to him for further explanation, “Removed?” 

“Escorted out by yours truly~”

Henrietta chuckled, struggling to keep it from becoming a full-fledged cackle, shaking her head and clicking her tongue, “Serves her right. Bloody first born—”

“Just as I thought—”

“What?” She snapped at him, irked that he’d cut off her sentence yet again.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” 

There was something about the way he said it. Henrietta didn’t believe it. Wouldn’t, because she was smarter than that. But the way he’d said it…it’d almost sounded… _honest._

It was enough to make her stop, Henrietta looking at him with contempt in her eyes, “If you’re trying to charm me—”

“I’ve long since given up on such a thing,” Sampson said, “I’m simply stating my own observations.”

Awkward laughter came from below, capturing both Sampson and Henrietta’s attention, Karlheinz making a fool of himself down in the gardens, Beatrix trying to quell her laughter by hiding behind her hand.

Henrietta sighed, “They’re so dreadfully frustrating.” 

“A unique pair indeed,” Sampson said, “Even still, I can hear wedding bells.” 

Henrietta scoffed, reaching for a strawberry, and taking an indulgent bite, “He’d be crazy not to marry her. The sooner the better.” 

“And for the two of us? Would sooner be better?” 

She rolled her eyes, “Again you insist on the exact same thing.” 

“I’m afraid I must.” 

“I thought you’d given up on such a thing,”

“Perhaps I lied a bit.”

“A deplorable trait, truly.” 

“I’m merely a determined man.”

Henrietta sighed, reaching for another strawberry, a tinge of lament in her eyes, “Yes. That, you most certainly are.” 

Sampson leaned forward, intrigued by her answer, “My Lady?” 

She seemed lost in thought, twirling the strawberry in her hands, “What is it called when neither man wins in a duel? A draw?” 

“Precisely.” 

She looked up at him, “Then I propose a draw.” 

Sampson crossed his legs, folding his hands over his knees, “Your terms?” 

“I’ll find you a suitable second wife,” she proposed, “And you find me a husband in want of a first wife. We both end up married, and we can stop with this bickering nonsense.” 

Sampson scoffed, uncrossing his legs, “If it were only a wife I were looking for then perhaps I might agree,” he stood up, moving to take the seat closer to her. 

Henrietta crinkled her features, “If not a wife then what more could you want?” 

“You, naturally.” 

Her crinkled confusion become a scowl, “You can’t have me—”

“I can. By force, if necessary—”

“You wouldn’t _dare._ You realize Beatrix’s position do you not? If you lay a single, disgusting, _entitled_ finger on me—”

She stopped, because Sampson wasn’t interrupting, wasn’t saying anything, actually just looking at her with wide eyes that didn’t suit a man like him. Why was it that simply having him watch her seemed to be enough to make her falter?

“Why are you looking at me like that.” She spat out dryly.

Sampson cocked his head pensively, as if he were lost in a daydream, “The way you bare your fangs when you’re upset,” he said, “It’s truly enchanting…” 

She stiffened, feeling a strange lump in her throat, so she scoffed it away, “Enchanting? Don’t take me for a fool,” she wasn’t sure where to look, “Ladies—ladies don’t show their fangs—”

“May I counter your offer?” He said suddenly, leaning into her. 

She swallowed, stiffening all the more, “You may.” 

“You become my second wife. You bear me my first born. Surely you know that’s the quickest way to inherit power.” 

Henrietta inhaled sharply, “You want an heir.” She only seemed to realize it as she said it. Well, at the very least, it made more since than him wanting her, specifically.

“I want you,” Sampson corrected, “But it seems you’re not interested in matters of the heart.” 

She scoffed, “Matters of the heart—”

“Amelia has never mattered to me,” Sampson insisted, “You’re unlike another other woman I’ve ever met. You speak your mind and yet you hold loyalty at the highest regard. You bare your fangs, and speak out of turn. Everything you do seems to set me on edge and when all is said and done I think I might actually hate you—” 

“Are you—”

“I cannot make you the first wife,” Sampson continued, taking her hand, and pressing his lips to the back of her palm, “But I could make you the first woman I’ve ever loved.”

Electric shocks seemed to jolt through her, the feeling so foreign and unnatural that it was enough to make her stand, if only to get further away from him. With an awkward clear of her throat, she made her way to the balcony, leaning against the railing. Sampson followed her, standing right at her side. She figured he might do so, but part of her had hoped he’d stay at the table. 

“You’re trying to play me for a fool,” she said quietly.

“I don’t think I could if I tried,” Sampson offered. 

“Men like you don’t love,” she looked up at him, eyes searching his face, “Vampires…” 

Wind tugged at their clothes, Henrietta’s hair slowly rolling down her shoulder. 

“Perhaps they don’t,” Sampson’s voice was a hushed whisper, nearly carried off by the wind, butit didn’t quite seem to matter int hat moment, because he was already leaning in, meeting Henrietta in a soft brushing of their lips.

Neither pulled away until another gentle breeze seemed to roll by, Henrietta averting her gaze, choosing to look out into the gardens instead. Sampson leaned against her, but only just. 

“Will you return that one as well?” He asked, resting his arms against the railing, glancing at her briefly before he too began gazing out into the garden. 

It was silent for a long while, and for a moment Sampson thought he might ignore her question entirely. But then she spoke up, drawing his attention to her face. 

“No,” she sounded lost, choosing to not look at him, but rather out at the garden below, “I think I will keep just this one.”

The sun began to peek out from the horizon, spilling out over the garden, seeming to touch every inch of space though there was hardly any light to begin with. And for some reason, Sampson felt it would be fine if he chose to lean in just a tad bit more. 

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been 87 years. Sorry it's taken this long lolol. But I think I finally figured out what was wrong with the original outline so yay~


End file.
